Inside Out
by RikkuAlaise
Summary: After Dumbledore's funeral Harry thinks he sees Voldemort at the lake... or is it Tom Riddle? The person is gone and Harry doesn't know if he imagined it all. Why would the Dark Lord want to change into the appearance of his former self anyway? HPTR slash
1. Chapter 1

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Rating: PG-13 (for now)

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read it, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Geez, I finally decided to update my first story here! Think I'm feeling more nervous than excited, haha. I had the ideas for this story already 3 years ago, when I read HP 6, but now after reading the last volume I was actually able to write it. I'm not a native English speaker, so please don't be too hard on grammar or spelling mistakes, I'm trying to do my best!

Please review! It's a great motivation for me to carry on, if I know that people like the story and bear with the characters just as much as I do, haha!

But for now: Enjoy!

PS/T/H/ indicates start of a new scene

* * *

„Ouch!"

Harry swore under his breath, grimacing at the dull pain of his head and crouched down. Shifting slightly, he tried to hide himself behind a rock. His eyes followed the two figures that were now passing the spot where he had been standing seconds ago, but they were obviously unaware of Harry's presence.

The young wizard remained motionless as he watched the two disappear in the distance.

Exhaling loudly, Harry slowly left his hiding position and rubbed over the back of his throbbing head, silently cursing the tree branch.

A heavy sensation in his stomach that resulted from the sudden wave of guilt made the Gryffindor bite his lower lip.

It wasn't like he had tried to avoid Hermione and Ron…

He just didn't feel like he would be able to endure anymore sympathetic shoulder pats, condolence speeches or curious questions, of what he was doing, when he was doing it, where and with whom.

From no one. Not even his best friends.

Harry stepped out from between the trees, checking once more to see if there was somebody else looking for him, which didn't seem too unlikely, considering that Scrimgeour had managed to cause quite the fuss by following him earlier.

The Minister of Magic _and _the Chosen One!

If it had not been for Dumbledore's funeral, Harry thought gloomily, half the school would have been stuck to their heels.

Sometimes he was just so sick of all the attention.

Finally alone the young wizard walked along the lake in silence. It was probably the first moment since… Harry felt that it was just as difficult to admit Dumbledore's death as it had been for him to do so with Sirius's.

Although the fact that his headmaster wasn't alive anymore seemed in some way too surreal to actually be true. From all the people Harry knew, Dumbledore was the last person he thought would simply die like this. It was as if he had had the feeling that the old wizard was immortal, which was ridiculous of course, but… he still couldn't help the feeling that it had struck him impossible to believe that Dumbledore was really gone… forever.

Harry buried his hands in the pockets of his trousers and sighed loudly.

Absentmindedly, he let his gaze wander over the peaceful scenery. His eyes came to a sudden halt at the form of a person and his attention snapped back into focus.

Squinting into the distance, Harry realized that there was indeed somebody lying at the bank of the lake, hardly 50 feet away from him. Slowly, he inched closer, his eyes narrowing in concentration. The figure started to move and seemed to prop himself up – Harry was sure by now that it had to be a boy or man – up on the elbows.

It was then that proper light fell upon the person, as the sun broke through the clouds and the Gryffindor halted as his eyes widened gradually, studying the features of the person's face, who was now looking back at him.

White, almost translucent skin wrapped around a bony jaw and cheekbones, only taking a different color under the eyes, were it drew dark rings. Harry's breath caught, as he thought he had seen a red flicker in those dark eyes, but the moment was too short to really tell and the color had been far too pale.

The short illusion had still caused the young Gryffindor to reach for his wand, his fingers tightening around it, while he continued to stare at the person in front of him that looked so confusingly like a mix between Voldemort and Tom Riddle.

The lips were thin and colorless, the robe looked so much like Voldemort's but it seemed too big and where the Dark Lord had had only nostrils, was a normal nose. Also the fact that Voldemort was bald… the man on the ground had – even if very short – black hair.

Harry felt the urge to go closer, to assure himself whether it was indeed Voldemort or not, to see if the light or his eyes were fooling him, but his feet just would not move.

And his scar did not hurt. Not-

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry nearly jumped from his skin, from the closeness of the loud voice and the simultaneous prickling of his scar. Whirling around, his arm shot up and he pointed his wand at…

"Where in-"

But his friends stopped dead in their tracks, their eyes now fixed upon Harry's wand. They stared.

"What are you doing?" Hermione finally breathed, after seconds of silence.

That seemed to wake Harry from his stupor and he withdrew his wand slowly, an apologetic expression on his face. For a moment he had almost forgotten what it was that Hermione and Ron had interrupted him in.

Turning immediately back to…

But the person was gone and Harry felt his heart sink in disappointment and confusion.

"I- I just thought, I saw…" He muttered to himself, but trailed off.

"Saw what?" Hermione and Ron were now by his side, following his gaze and frowning a little, as they were not able to make out anything interesting or unsettling that could have caused Harry's reaction.

"Harry?" Hermione eyed him worriedly. "Are you quite sure you saw-"

The young wizard shook his head in resignation.

"Nevermind."

T/H/

The street lights at Privet Drive seemed unnaturally gloomy, as black clouds covered the sky and thunder in the distance erupted the nocturnal silence, followed by faint lightening.

It was only a question of time before rain was going to pour down onto roofs and pavement.

Amidst the forebodings of a great weather front was a person walking along the deserted street of Privet Drive in brisk strides. His long black cloak flying behind him, it seemed like a wonder that the hood that covered his face was not swept off.

He was casting a long shadow behind himself when passing a light and then again appeared to vanish into the darkness as he reached a not so well lit spot.

Bright lightening flashed along the horizon, the storm drawing nearer and that was when the cloaked person – a wizard, considering his attire – came to an abrupt halt.

In front of Nr. 4 Privet Drive.

Raising his head ever so slightly, the eyes hidden beneath the hood and strands of hair just as dark, as everything else about the person were fixed on the only window in the house with light behind it.

A small smile flashed over the strangers face and he tilted his head to the side, watching a shadow pass the window that surely belonged to the person living in that very room.

"Found you."


	2. Chapter 2

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: First of all: to everybody who left me a comment, put my story on alert or their favorites THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH!!! I haven't put a story online in forever and it made me really, really happy to see that people like what I write and that they're curious to see how the story is going to develop. Thanks again, I hope you'll like the next chapter and that you stay with me!

Oh, and to the questions I got from **lilsteves** and **njferrell** about how old Voldemort looks, when he changes back to Tom Riddle. I decided to take his age and looks from when he worked at Borgin & Burkes, during the time with Hepzibah Smith and all that stuff, J.K. Rowling described him to be even more handsome than he had been at school. chuckles So, if my math (and memory) is somewhat right, I guess that's when he was about 18 or 19. A little older than Harry, but I like it that way.

In case you notice any mistakes about spells, events or anything, please do forgive me. It's been a while since I read the books, but I'm currently re-reading book 5 for background information. Unfortunately I'm still totally mixed up about the protection Harry got from his mother (and that Voldemort can't touch him?? I really don't know...) and the protection/ enchantment that Dumbledore (?? was it Dumbledore?) put on the Dursley's house so Harry can't be harmed there. If anybody of you knows exactly what's really going on there, I'd appreciate explanations, haha!

Just another small note, I'll leave the additional rating within each chapter out from now on. I think I should still ok, since I rated the whole story M anyway.

Btw. what Harry saw at the lake exactly will be explained later on, so I'll refer to that again. It all comes to light in due time. smiles

For now: Please enjoy!!!

* * *

It was a few weeks later and Harry was now back at the Dursley's house, the incident at Dumbledore's funeral seemingly forgotten. He was now desperately waiting for his birthday in only 13 days.

Oh, he couldn't possibly take it any longer! The thought that he would never have to come back again, never having Aunt Petunia bickering about his every move, no Uncle Vernon who would constantly yell at him and insult him, no irritating Dudley and his brainless friends.

It would be heaven.

Well, at least if you ignored the fact that the Wizarding World was on the verge of a war and that he would have to face Voldemort in the future to come, not to mention his task of finding and destroying the remaining Horcruxes.

Weighing his options – whereas he really did not have any – it would probably be far safer to stay with the Dursleys. But firstly it was simply impossible, since the enchantment that kept him safe was going to wear off at his 17th birthday and secondly, there was no way he would just lay back and watch the nightmare unfold.

Not when he was supposed to be the one bringing Voldemort down.

He had promised Dumbledore.

No, he had not just promised Dumbledore, he had promised everybody.

Even if it would just be for the simple purpose of keeping their hopes alive, he did not care. It was his task, maybe even his destiny. And there was no way that he would turn and run away from it.

But right now Harry's primary concern was how he would get food from the kitchen, without Uncle Vernon noticing that something was missing. What made this whole venture enormously easier was the fact that everybody was out, which usually did not happen very often, if at all.

No wonder, the Dursleys hardly trusted him to move about the house while they were at home, let alone leaving Harry all by himself. Unfathomable really… imagining what he could do.

Harry snorted derisively, as he climbed the stairs to his room back up, various things in his arms.

That's when he heard Hedwig starting to hoot loudly and rattle in her cage.

Frowning, Harry sped up and skipped several steps, before slowly opening the door to his room. He didn't want to upset his owl even more by practically jumping into the room.

He had barely reached the cage and tried to calm the snow white bird down, when…

Harry nearly dropped the food in his arms, panic befalling him almost at once, when he realized that his wand was lying peacefully on his bed.

Between him and…

Unable to move the young wizard stood there staring down at the unconscious person, whose face was hidden by the hood of his robe.

Who was that? How did he get in here? Was it a wizard? It had to be, with that long, black robe. But how-? The enchantment. It shouldn't be possible!

As his first shock subsided little by little, Harry found himself able to think properly again and decided to try and tiptoe over to his bed to retrieve his wand, which was really his only option anyway. He swallowed, shooting Hedwig a warning glance, accompanied by a low reassurance to calm her down.

Every muscle in his body was tensed as Harry scooted closer to his bed and around the seemingly lifeless person on the floor. He felt like he was walking on eggshells.

By the time he reached his bedpost a small wave of relief washed over him, now all he had to do was place the food still in his arms onto the bed and take his wand. This was easy.

Yes, no problem, Harry tried to calm himself. There was no point in getting all worked up.

The moment, however, that he reached out for his wand was interrupted by the impact of somebody grabbing his upper arm and turning him around with so much force that made Harry first stumble and then fall.

A startled sound caught in his throat on his way down.

He heard Hedwig start to hoot loudly and rampage in her cage again, but noticed everything around him just dimly for several seconds, for his head had hit the end of his bed.

"Wha-?"

The haze seemed to lift, but by the time he opened his eyes he found his surroundings all blurred. His glasses were missing, Harry realized blinking and helpless. They must have slid of… when…

Hedwig was still causing havoc in her little domicile, screeching by now.

"Hedwig it's alright, I-"

"Is it?" A dangerous hiss so close to him made the young wizard jump considerably.

That's when Harry saw the form of somebody move over him and the next thing he knew was that the stranger was pinning him to the ground by his shoulders.

Squinting, Harry tried to make out who it could be, but even though he was so close to the other's face, he could hardly distinguish any features. The only thing he could probably say for sure was that it had to be a human being.

"Who-?"

"Take a guess, Chosen One." The stranger snarled coldly. He didn't leave Harry any time to think though and placed the glasses back on his nose.

As the image in front of his eyes smoothed out, Harry gasped in shock and a cold feeling spread through his body.

That… was impossible! It couldn't be-! How-?

The lake! Suddenly the memory seemed to come back and hit him hard.

"But- but you're dead!" Harry exclaimed stupidly, earning a hollow laugh that sounded so familiar and threw him right back to his second year in Hogwarts.

The Chamber of Secrets. Tom Riddle. Voldemort… it couldn't be, could it?

He destroyed the diary, the memory of Riddle vanished. Voldemort wouldn't be able to simply return to his body of the boy he had once been, or would he? Why now then? Why hadn't he…?

"Now, Potter. We don't want you to break your pretty head over matters that you wouldn't understand anyway." The older boy mocked him in a degrading manner.

His voice was icy and cutting, just like Harry remembered it. After the incident in the Chamber Harry had had nightmares about it for a while, until they subsided because of the relieving realization that it was all over. That Riddle wouldn't come back. Ever.

Or that was what he had hoped.

It was then, when he had seen Voldemort return in that small, dark graveyard that the image of Tom Riddle from the diary two years earlier had come back to his mind, sometimes making him feel more scared about this mere memory than the real thing.

This was a nightmare.

It had to be. He would just have to hold on a little longer and he would wake up.

Without noticing, Harry must have uttered his hope aloud, as Riddle's lips stretched into a cruel smile.

"I'm truly sorry to break the news to you, but no, this is not a dream."

_I knew that all along._

Harry felt hopelessness overwhelming him for just a split second, but no matter how soon it was gone it left a terrible feeling behind. If he wouldn't know that it was just his mind playing a trick on him, he would have said he was suffocating.

_I don't feel like giving up, but I just can't breathe…_

"How did you break through the enchantment?" Harry asked, trying to shake the desperation off.

It didn't matter really. He was here now. Voldemort was in his room, pressing his wand against Harry's neck so hard it made his every breath hurt.

Not willing to give in so easily, no matter how much he felt like simply panicking, the young wizard looked up to meet his enemy's eyes with a defiant stare.

That's when it struck Harry, something had been odd… you could even call it missing, the entire time.

He was starring into deep brown eyes. However cold and unforgiving they were, they didn't have that scarlet like color Voldemort's eyes had had, ever since he had returned.

"Maybe I didn't have to break the enchantment." Riddle stated calmly.

Harry frowned.

Why did most of the things stop making sense, when it came to Voldemort? It was never easy; it was never obvious or clearly laid out. There was always a catch. It started to get unnerving.

From the very beginning…

Starting out with the prophecy, way before he was even born. For all they knew it could have been Neville for heaven's sake! There was no way in telling why Voldemort had decided to choose _him. _Then, the impossibility that he survived the Killing Curse, the fact that it rebounded, but didn't even kill Voldemort.

Looking back to these incidents now, he knew all the answers of course, but…

There had been so much that just wouldn't make any sense at first. Why had the Sorting Hat wanted to put him in Slytherin? Why was he able to speak in Parseltongue, if it was a trademark for Salazar Slytherin and dark wizards? Why was it always him standing out?

Since he had entered into Hogwarts and even before, everything in his life… even the very fact _that _he was still alive, was connected to Voldemort.

He had faced the dark wizard in every of his years at Hogwarts.

True the form or impersonation had varied, but when it came down to it, it had always been him fighting Voldemort. His life could've ended a thousand times by now, but every time a miracle seemed to save him once again. This realization made him very bitter at times.

And when they had finally been face to face, seemingly no escape possible – or even wanted- on Harry's side, it had been the connection of their wands that had saved his life.

Fawkes's feather.

Even their wands were similar.

Dumbledore might not have noticed, but by showing Harry all the memories revolving around Riddle, it had been like showing him a mirror of himself. There had been moments when Harry had been downright scared of what he had seen.

The only difference between them was… the path they had chosen.

Blinking, as his throat felt suddenly dry and tied up causing his eyes to water ever so slightly, the young wizard tried to shut his reasoning out. This wasn't getting him anywhere.

For a moment he actually wished for Voldemort to turn back into his terrifying self, instead of having to look at somebody who seemed to resemble so much of himself, if he had just taken a step in a different direction.

"How- how is it possible then that you're here?" Harry finally found his voice again.

There was still that merciless smile on Riddle's lips, as he tilted his head. "You're not trying to smart-talk yourself out of this, are you?"

"Why would I do that?" The younger wizard sounded almost annoyed.

Whatever Voldemort thought of him, he wasn't a coward!

Raising an eyebrow, Riddle seemed to mock him. "I have no idea, Harry." He paused and his smile stretched a little. "Maybe you're afraid to die."

"I'm not."

His answer had left his lips faster than he would have thought. It was true though, Harry realized, even slightly surprised by the fact himself. He wasn't afraid to die. Why should he be, anyway?

He should have died so many times before; it really was a miracle that he had made it so far.

By Riddle's stunned expression however, it seemed obvious that he hadn't expected Harry to respond like that.

"It's no use to lie, Potter." Came the scathing snarl seconds later and the elder's face was controlled again, as he leaned in, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm not lying." Harry didn't even care if he sounded indifferent or not.

In contrast to his voice, he felt everything else but unaffected. On the contrary he had to hold back not to yell at Riddle that he would rather die a thousand deaths than ripping his soul apart by committing murder for the pathetic attempt to become immortal.

Harry answered the elder's searching glare with an open expression. He had nothing to hide; he wouldn't let himself be intimidated anymore. If he was going to die then so be it.

"Why are _you_ so afraid of dying…Tom?"

The young wizard's eyes didn't leave Voldemort's face, as he asked his question. Although he had almost thought not to get a reaction after all – either on the name or the question itself- he didn't miss the small twitch of the other's lips, as they pressed together in a thin line.

"How dare you?" Riddle's words were but a shaking hiss.

It was that almost uncontrolled rage taking over the dark wizard's expression and at the same time causing his handsomeness to dissolve that reminded Harry so much of Riddle's face, as he had seen him laughing in that wild happiness that contorted his face just as much into a mad mask.

_**/I'll kill**__** you with my bare hands, if that's what it takes./**_

These words practically exploding inside Harry's mind made him jump in shock and with them an agonizing pain followed that seemed to start everywhere and spread through his whole body.

"Wha- what?" He gasped out, his vision blurring.

Blinking frantically he tried to shake it off, but the feeling was just as confusing as it was excruciating. He couldn't grasp it, if it was inside of him, how could it cause him so much physical pain and still seem like it was induced from the outside?

This wasn't the Cruciatus Curse! What was it?! What… was going on?!

"You have _no idea_ how much I loathe your very existence, Potter." The words were gritted out forcefully. Tom was shaking with rage, the fingers of his left hand digging into the younger wizard's shoulder.

Harry's eyes widened, his breath becoming shallow. The pain just would not stop!

"Stop… stop it!"

The pure hatred in the other's face horrified him. He had never thought it possible that somebody could despise him with such a passion. He didn't understand.

What was happening here?

Suddenly the door to Harry's room slammed open and they both looked up.

For a second Harry thought it would be Uncle Vernon and that they were back, but then he saw that it was another wizard wrapped in a long black cloak, his face hidden under the hood.

"Watch out! This is-!"

Harry shouted at once, afraid Voldemort would kill the other, but the stranger yelled "Expelliarmus!" before he could finish and Harry saw Riddle's wand fly out of his hand.

The moment of relief was short-lived, as the young wizard remembered that Voldemort was able to perform wand less magic, but the unknown wizard was once again quicker as he cast a Stunning Spell on Riddle and rendered him unconscious.

Seconds passed in which Harry just sat on the ground starring at Riddle's motionless form; complete bewilderment was written all of over his face.

Sure, the stranger had been incredibly fast, he had to give him that, but Harry had seen Voldemort cast the Killing Curse numerous times before… this time he hadn't even appeared to try. Something here was very wrong.

"Who are you?!" The young wizard snapped and reached for his wand.

The stranger gave him a warm smile and lifted his hand - causing Harry to point his wand at him immediately - to pull his hood back and reveal his face. He had long dark brown hair that was tied together in his back, unreadable blue grey eyes and… there was something about him that gave Harry a familiar feeling.

Eyeing him suspiciously, he couldn't put his finger on it. He had never seen that man before.

"Who are you?" He repeated.

The smile didn't leave the other wizard's lips. "Since my face doesn't seem to be of any help to you, I imagine my name wouldn't be either. All you need to know right now is that Dumbledore sent me."

"Dumbledore's dead!" Harry shot back.

A patient expression softened the stranger's features, his smile still remaining. "I know that."

He pulled a little, folded piece of parchment out of the pocket of his cloak and held it out for Harry to take. The younger one hesitated momentarily, before he reached out – his wand still pointing at the other – and snatched the parchment out of the stranger's hand.

Harry read the short note. The writing seemed like Dumbledore's to him, he recognized it. Then again… every idiot was probably able to forge handwriting.

"So… Taylor." He looked down at the parchment once more, drawing out the name. "What part of this scribbling is supposed to tell me something? You didn't really think that this would suffice to convince me of anything, did you?"

"I told Dumbledore you'd say that. Listen Harry, I knew your godfather Sirius-"

"Don't you dare say his name!"

Unwaveringly Taylor continued. "I'll take you to Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place, where I'll take Hermione and Ron as well. I would take you to the Burrow, if it wouldn't be for Voldemort here."

"We'll take him too?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Of course we will. You didn't really expect me to be irresponsible enough to leave him here in this Muggle house, did you?"

"I… guess not." The younger one admitted, slightly reluctant.

He didn't like the idea of taking Voldemort to his godfather's house, but then again what else could they do? Even if Grimmauld Place wasn't headquarters of the Order anymore, it might still be safe.

"Several new protections and charms have been put up in your godfather's former house. It should be relatively safe for the time being." Taylor continued. "We still have to be prepared to leave at any given time, as you will probably anticipate."

Harry nodded.

This still didn't feel right to him. Who was this Taylor guy? He had never seen him before and all of the sudden he shows up in Privet Drive and saves his life, telling him Dumbledore sent him and that he knew Sirius. He even knew about Grimmauld Place. He was either a Death Eater or trustworthy.

"I want to see your arm."

The older wizard halted in his explanation and looked surprised for a moment, and then he smiled again. "I'm rather convinced that this will not improve the current situation, since I do have the Dark Mark."

Harry paled, his wand right back to pointing at the other.

"Harry please, you have to listen to me."

"I don't have to do anything you say! You better clear off or you'll regret it!" The younger wizard yelled furiously. He couldn't believe it! So this was what the whole thing was all about!

Letting himself be knocked over by another wizard, who was really a Death Eater so Harry would trust him and then run willingly into Voldemort's arms. This second he wished for Riddle to regain his conscience, so that Harry could give him a good smack, however Muggle-like this would be.

What did Voldemort actually think? That he was a complete idiot?!

"I feel ever so slightly insulted by your _master's_ brainless plan! I had hoped he would respect me a little more than to think I would fall for _this_!" Harry spat, mad beyond measure.

Taylor sighed heavily. "I had really hoped we would be able to work this situation out differently."

Harry didn't even have a split second to counter, his opposite's lips hadn't moved. A sensation similar to a hard punch in the stomach that knocked all the air out of his lungs, and the fact that he felt his consciousness slipping away, was what made him realized that he had been hit by a Stunning Spell.

___I was supposed to be… safe here…_


	3. Chapter 3

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: I'm a bit proud to say that this chapter is the longest so far, but it has a reason as well. ''' I don't know, when I'll be able to update again. Won't be home for a week and after that all the stuff for the university is going to start. (sigh) But I'll try to upload the next chapter, as soon as I can!

Once again: thanks to all my reviewers!!! I love you guys! It makes me soooo happy, to read all these nice comments! Please keep it up and stay with me! It's a great encouragement for me to hear that you like what I'm writing! And of course feel free to ask questions, in case you're confused about something.

PS: O.O Oh dear...I even forgot that after uploading this. So an add here! If somebody has nothing better to do and enough (or some) free time on their hands, I'm in need of a beta reader. I had one, but she's rather busy with school now. If anyone volunteers, I'd be very grateful!

But that should be it for now:

Enjoy!

* * *

"I thought you said we could prevent _this _from happening! Didn't he say-?" 

"Yes he did! We don't know what went wrong… it shouldn't have happened."

Harry frowned, his head hurt, but he refrained from touching it or moving in any other way. Instead he tried to listen to the hushed voices, even though he couldn't make any sense of it yet.

"Nothing we _could _do now anyway. It's all done."

They both sounded familiar to Harry. One even more than the other, but… everything was still blurred. Where was he? Did Voldemort have headquarters?

"Don't be ridiculous. We'll find a way." There was a short pause, before the same person resumed. "I hope for the boy's sake that we will."

Carefully Harry tried to move, seeing if he was able to or restrained. He stretched his hand without any problems. The movement itself however was noticed.

"He's waking. I'll have to leave now."

"If there's _anything_, then I want to know about it. _Right away_!"

A small snort seemed to strike Harry familiar, but half his senses were still too unfocused for him to concentrate properly. He knew who this was - he had heard it a thousand times. Who…?

Footsteps were coming closer and the young wizard blinked.

"How do you feel?"

It was Taylor, who was now looking down at him, a worried expression on his face.

"Where… did you take me?" Harry croaked, his throat feeling dry.

"To Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place, as I have told you." The elder responded in a calm voice and waved his hand, summoning a glass of water that he offered Harry.

Eyeing the glass suspiciously Harry grabbed it eventually and took a small sip, before emptying it completely. He gave it back to Taylor and sat up, which didn't give him any problems. So he really wasn't tied up or anything.

"What is this all about?" Warily Harry looked around, when he noticed a thin, nearly invisible thread around his left wrist and tried to touch it, but his fingertips went right through it.

The older wizard had followed his actions and smiled. "It's a Binding Charm… or Curse, depending on how unpleasant you'll find it to be connected to another person."

While listening to Taylor's explanation, Harry eyes traced the glittering, almost translucent string that wound its way along the floor.

_Hold on_, he thought, looking back up at the other. To another _person_?

That's when he caught sight of somebody lying on the floor not far from him. Harry knew at once that it was Riddle and his stomach turned in realization.

This spell was binding him to… Voldemort.

"However…" Taylor's voice brought him out of his momentary stupor. "… I'm sure you'll find the fact convenient that the two people connected to each other are not able to harm one another in any magical way."

They couldn't harm each other? So…Voldemort wouldn't be able to simply wake up and kill him?

"Where's the catch?"

"Catch?" The elder seemed amused. "I don't think there is one. If you look at it it's probably the most successful spell, for you two not to kill each other."

"What if I break the spell? Or Vol-"

"I would appreciate it, if you could avoid saying his na-"

"I don't care what-" But Harry fell silent at Taylor's stern look, suppressing the rising anger, he tried to swallow his words and gritted his teeth.

"For some reason people must be traceable the second You-Know-Who's name leaves their lips. That's the only plausible explanation how various members of the Order have gotten into rather serious trouble during the last days." Taylor's explanation caused Harry's irritation to subside.

"So…" The younger one spoke up again. "So what if, um… one of us breaks the spell?"

"That's not possible. The two people affected do not have the power to undo the effect of the spell. So, no worries." That seemingly ever present smile returned to Taylor's lips. "And just so you know, apart from the two connected people and the person who cast the spell - which would be me – nobody else is able to see the connecting thread."

"So others wouldn't know?" Harry asked surprised.

"Well, they might get the idea after awhile, due to the inevitability that you have to follow each other around."

Making a face at this, the young wizard inquired: "How far from each other are we able to move?"

"About 10 feet, I think."

Harry let out a loud sigh and rubbed absently over his scar.

His scar! With wide eyes he stared at the still unconscious Riddle. He was so close to Voldemort, but his scar didn't even tickle, nor had it earlier, when the other had basically been just moments away from killing him. If… if his scar would have hurt, he would have known that it was Voldemort up in his room, as Hedwig had started to make such a ruckus!

Hedwig!

"Where's my owl?!"

But before Taylor could answer, Harry spotted the snow white bird as she rustled her feathers, looking rather content on top of her cage, which stood on an old commode at the far side of the room. Her big eyes were fixed upon him and she clicked her beak.

"Hey, Hedwig." Harry exhaled relieved.

So he had indeed been brought to Nr.12 Grimmauld Place, Hedwig was unharmed and he too. What puzzled him though was that Riddle still had not regained his consciousness. _If_ this was all a well figured out trap, then it was about time to stop pretending.

And what was this Binding Spell all about? Was that simply a lie and its sole purpose really to make it impossible for Harry to flee? He couldn't get his head around it.

"What is really going on here, Taylor?" The resignation in his words was apparent. "Is this a trap? If it is… you can tell me now, you got me literally tied down anyway."

"It's not a trap, Harry. It's just as I told you and-"

Taylor interrupted himself, as he had noticed a movement from the corner of his eyes.

"He's awake now, too."

Apparently he must have seen the questioning look on Harry's face and explained in a low voice: "The Stunning Spell that I had aimed at _him_ was at least twice as strong as the one that hit you."

"Oh…"

Watching Riddle sit up slowly, Harry couldn't ignore that lurching feeling in his stomach and drew his left hand closer to himself. He rubbed over his wrist, knowing that he wasn't able to feel anything or change his situation in the slightest bit.

Harry's eyes were still on Riddle, when he felt a hand on his shoulder that made him jump in surprise and he looked up.

"I'll leave you two for awhile. I still need to fetch Ron and Hermione, I'm sure they're already worried." Taylor gave the younger wizard a reassuring smile, as he saw his unbelieving expression. "Don't worry, I won't be long. I told you everything about the Spell and you're not able to leave the house. Believe me - I'd prefer to take you, if I could."

"But I… you can't…!" Harry protested.

"I'll know if there is anything wrong and come right back. Just don't panic."

And before Harry could say something Taylor had vanished, leaving him and… Voldemort behind. Hedwig made a small noise in her cage and Harry could feel his pulse quicken. He wasn't calm at all.

Jumping to his feet he forgot about the Binding Spell, but was reminded instantly as he saw Riddle almost fall forward, if he hadn't been fast enough to catch himself with one arm.

Their eyes met a second later, both widened.

"A _Binding _Spell?" Riddle gritted out and starred at his wrist, which had a fine thread around it too.

Harry felt the great urge to take a few steps back, but knew he couldn't without pulling the other along with him. He wanted to get away, far away. Why couldn't that spell also make sure that they wouldn't be able to get too close to each other?

"Looks like we are going to spend a lot of time together, Potter."

---------------------

Half an hour later Taylor had not returned yet, which did not improve neither the level of Harry's anxiety nor the icy atmosphere of the place.

They had not spoken a word and Harry had to admit feeling a little bored and impatient at the same time, there were still so many unanswered questions and he was almost bursting to ask them.

Trying to be inconspicuous the young wizard watched Riddle out of the corner of his eyes, who was sitting on the ground a few feet away from him. He hadn't moved for probably more than 20 minutes and just sat there staring off at the wall.

Harry could barely suppress the urge to give a biting remark.

After another 10 minutes without any sign of Taylor, Ron or Hermione, Harry looked over at the other wizard again, not caring this time if he was obvious or not.

"You still didn't tell me how you were able to get past the enchantment."

For a moment it did not seem like Riddle was going to answer him.

"I didn't." The response was barely audible and the elder did not look at Harry.

"But how…?"

"I don't know." Riddle finally turned his head.

The honesty that lay in the dark wizards eyes surprised Harry. Was he trying to trick him? He couldn't possibly be serious! Dumbledore had assured Harry that he would be safe in Nr.4 Privet Drive until his 17th birthday.

"It… shouldn't have been possible. Dumbledore had-"

"Well maybe you shouldn't believe everything the old fool has told you." Riddle snorted derisively. "Look where it has gotten him." A cold smile flashed over his pale lips.

"Don't you dare-!"

"What are you going to do about it, Potter?"

Harry couldn't help but flinch at the challenging snarl and the piercing stare; avoiding Riddle's eyes he gritted his teeth. "I don't know, _Tom_! But I'm sure to find something!"

The elder narrowed his eyes. "How do you know that name?"

Harry hesitated, thinking about what he could tell Voldemort without letting the fact slip that they were about to search for and destroy his Horcruxes. But his silence must have seemed to the other as if he was not going to answer, because he went on.

"Oh well, I can imagine. Dear Dumbledore has probably told you everything he knew about me. Finding it to be an advantage to know the enemy. I'll tell you something, Potter. Whatever he has told you, isn't going to get you anywhere."

"We'll see about that, won't we?" Harry snapped stubbornly.

The dark wizard's lips stretched into an amused smile. "Of course we will, Harry."

The fact that Voldemort had used his first name made him feel strange and furious at the same time, but he tried his best to appear indifferent.

"So tell me, did your headmaster's death teach you anything? Doesn't seem true anymore that the _good _always win, or does it?"

Riddle was mocking him, Harry told himself.

_He's just trying to wind me up, I won't fall for that._

But how could he still be so full of himself, considering Voldemort's situation? How did he think he would get out of this again? Was he that arrogant or did he have a plan already?

"If you're trying to point out once again that Dumbledore was a fool than you might as well save your breath. You should really know by now that I'm not losing faith in Dumbledore. Not even in death."

"Well…" The fact that Riddle chuckled at his words irritated Harry to no end. "…what I actually meant was that you have to be very careful about who you think you can trust. There are many people that are not what they appear to be."

"Well don't worry! I'll make sure to be _extra_ careful with you!"

Voldemort had a point, which was probably the reason why he was so furious. Harry had never been able to understand why Dumbledore had trusted Snape and in the end his worst fear had proven to be true. It was still bitter to hear the devastating truth and Riddle always seemed to confront him with something he did not expect, say something he could not see coming.

"I'm sure you will." Riddle's lips curled into a pleasant smile.

Like this.

Harry felt his cheeks warm and huffed slightly. Muttering to himself he got up, ignoring their connection deliberately and walked over to Hedwig's cage.

"Don't strain yourself with consideration." He heard Riddle scoff.

"No worries, I won't!"

The elder walked up to his side, where he leaned his shoulder against the wall and folded his arms. Watching Harry with an unconcerned expression, Tom smiled, but sighed as well.

"You know, Potter. I think you've got more brains than you're letting on."

Harry's hand halted on Hedwig's wings that he had been caressing softly - earning approving sounds from his owl - which was now opening her eyes as she scowled at him. Undecided how he should react to Riddle's words he turned his head to the other.

"If it wouldn't have been you saying it, I would've seriously considered this to be a compliment."

Tom's smile widened. "But since it's from me, I understand that you obviously can't accept."

"No," this time it was Harry smirking. "Since it's from you, I'm wondering why you would bother saying something to me that doesn't even have an insulting undertone."

"Maybe you've got a completely wrong impression of me."

"I don't think so." Harry frowned. "Maybe you ought to know that I'm very aware of the fact that Tom Riddle was a natural deceiver. I wouldn't be surprised if this trademark of his comes back to surface now that you're back in his body."

For a moment Harry thought to have seen something close to apprehension in Riddle's eyes, but the emotion was so short lived and the other back to his unreadable expression.

It looked as though the elder wanted to say something, halted however and looked to the side. A second later a loud crack echoed through the air and Taylor stood at the exact spot Riddle had turned to.

Two more cracks followed and Hermione and Ron appeared next to Taylor.

Harry didn't even take notice of his two friends for a moment, as he watched Riddle intently. Was that his imagination or had the other just _known _that Taylor would apparate a split-second later? Was it possible to feel things like that?

"Harry!" Hermione's happy voice brought his thoughts back to the present.

"Where's Vol-? You-Know-Who, that git?!" Ron hollered at once, his wand at the ready. He obviously sounded a lot braver than usually when he spoke of Voldemort and Harry couldn't help but feel that Taylor must have told them that the dark wizard would not be able to kill them.

When nobody seemed to answer the young Weasley, he followed Hermione's gaze and noticed Riddle for the first time, who was standing next to Harry. "And who's that bloke?"

"That's Tom Riddle." Hermione breathed, not taking her eyes off him, even as Ron repeated his loud 'What?' "So that's what you meant…" She was addressing Taylor. "…when you said You-Know-Who isn't going to be quite the way we remembered him."

"Yes." Taylor nodded slowly. "I didn't feel it was safe enough to explain the exact circumstances at The Burrow." He ignored Ron's 'What's supposed to mean?' and went on, now looking at Harry. "Are you ok?"

The young wizard nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine."

Despite Harry's words, Taylor gave Riddle a scrutinizing glare that – Harry was quite sure – would not have the slightest effect on the dark wizard, who indeed remained completely impassive.

His attention once again drawn from Voldemort, Harry jumped in surprise as Hermione had strode over to him so quickly he had not noticed and threw her arms around him now. "Harry, I'm so glad to see you! We were terribly worried about you! It was such a shock, when we heard You-Know-Who was able to break through the enchantment! Even Dumbledore has said that you'd be safe with your aunt and uncle."

"I know." Harry responded gravely - when he finally got the chance to – and returned Hermione's embrace, but his eyes were once again on Riddle.

The other had told him not to know how he was able to break the enchantment. What a ridiculous lie that was! How on earth would one break through one of the most powerful protections without knowing how to do it?! Then again… he remembered Riddle being unconscious, when he had entered his room. Or had that been a trick?

"Harry?" Hermione watched him, looking slightly worried. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Wha-? Oh yeah, I was just… thinking." Harry tried a sheepish grin, as to wave her worries off and attempted to change the topic by saying: "How's everybody at The Burrow?"

"Fine." Ron answered, but considering the face he made that did not seem to be entirely true. "Fleur is back and her parents are about to arrive in two days. You know, for the wedding. Mom was devastated when she heard we wouldn't be able to come. We almost couldn't convince her to stay put. I don't know how she found out, but she knew that You-Know-Who had found you. You can imagine how much that upset her."

Listening to Ron made Harry's stomach turn in guilt and sympathy. He hadn't meant to screw up the only cheerful thing there was in a time like that and also knowing how worried Mrs. Weasley always was about him made him feel bad. She loved him like a mother; he didn't want to cause her so much trouble all the time.

"But… the wedding, they're not, um… cancelling it, are they?" He asked carefully.

"No, no. We made sure they wouldn't." Hermione assured him.

"Good. That's… good." Harry sighed in relief. The last thing he wanted was to turn everybody's life upside down, just because of what was happening to him.

"I don't like it that _he's_ around, while we talk about private stuff." Ron suddenly complained gloomily, giving Riddle a stare full of detest. "Who knows what he's planning already in that sick mind of his."

"Ron!" Hermione gasped a little shocked.

"What?! Don't tell me you're expecting me to be nice to that… that bastard! I don't know about you, but just because he's got a _pretty_ face now doesn't make him any better to me._ I_ haven't forgotten that he has tried to kill my _sister_! That he manipulated her, to use her for his crazy plans!"

"Ron." Harry gritted out, watching Riddle out of the corner of his eyes, who frowned. If what Dumbledore had told him was true then the owner of a Horcrux wouldn't know if something happened to it. Not even if it got destroyed. So Voldemort had probably no idea what Ron was talking about and it better stayed that way.

_Well… Dumbledore did say that __Voldemort__ had been quite 'upset' with __Lucius__, when he had learned that his diary was destroyed, but he probably doesn't know much about the circumstances… _

His friend however did not seem willing to listen to any warnings. "Maybe you don't know, _Harry, _but Ginny had nightmares for _months_! I can't believe that we're standing here with You-Know-Who right in front of us and we're not supposed to do anything! If you ask me, we should get rid of him and start to look for the damn Hor-"

"Ron!" Harry had closed the distance between them rather rapidly and grabbed his friend's arm with an unpleasantly hard grip. "Will you shut up?!"

Ignoring Ron's indignant face, he turned around to Taylor. "Isn't there anything we can do about _this_!?" Raising his left hand, Harry noticed the confused looks of his two friends, but ignored them as well. "I think I need a word with them. Alone!"

"Well, there _is _a way to adjust the length of the thread." Taylor relented, smiling.

"Then do it!" Harry snapped annoyed, not only by the fact that Taylor had withheld crucial information about the spell, but also by this ever present smile of his. "Or tell me how to do it!"

"You have to touch it, while you think about the length you want. There's a limit of course."

"Thanks." The young wizard replied curtly, did as Taylor had told him and dragged Ron – Hermione following behind – into another room, slamming the door shut.

Harry whirled around and looked at Ron for a long time, starring him down with a furious glare. He had to get his temper back under control first. There wouldn't be any use in him exploding on his friend, but this very moment it was the one thing he really would have loved to do.

_How can somebody be so __**fucking **__stupid?_

"Now…" He finally started; Ron was shuffling his feet already in regret and found the floor suddenly very interesting. "Are.you.out.of.your.mind?!" Even though Harry had thought he had calmed down a little, he still had to watch his voice.

"Harry, I'm sure Ron didn't mean to-"

"This is _me_ talking to _Ron_ right now!" With a harsh edge to his voice Harry cut Hermione short, he didn't even bother to look at her and went on. "I _thought _I had told you everything Dumbledore had taught me about Horcruxes, or am I mistaken?" Sometimes he had the feeling the two had no idea how serious this was.

Ron looked like he was going to defend himself, but seemed to think better of it and just nodded.

"Well then you should _know _that Vol-, You-Know-Who has no idea, _yet,_ that we know about his Horcruxes and that we destroyed two of them. So I thought we'd do good in keeping the matter quiet, but obviously Ron here as a better idea!"

"Harry, that's quite enough!" Hermione stepped in again, this time a lot firmer. She was giving Harry a stern look and walked over to Ron.

Before Harry could contain himself, he sneered at his friends. "Oh yeah, defend him, why don't you!"

"I think you forget who you're talking to!" Sounding slightly shrill, Hermione was obviously shaken by his behavior.

"I think _he__…" _Harry glared at Ron. "…has forgotten who we're dealing with!"

"I don't think he has. I think he just made a mistake. Harry, everybody can make mistakes." It was apparent that the young witch was tired of the argument, her voice softened and she tried to appeal to Harry's reasoning.

But he didn't seem to listen and gave them a scornful glance. "Yeah, right."

"Oh, pardon me! I forgot I'm talking to Harry Potter the Unfailing!" This time even Hermione snapped and she stepped over to Harry, her eyes narrowing as she looked him right in the eye. "We're here to help you. We're your friends and I was under the impression that we were all in this together. If _you _however think You-Know-Who is reason enough to throw our friendship away be so kind to inform us. _Now!_"

Harry wasn't able to hold her stare and adjusted his eyes in remorse.

She was right, what had made him say all these things? They were his friends after all. His best friends. He hated it, when he lost his temper like that - it made him feel cold all over and a bit more like Voldemort. The memory of his fifth year at Hogwarts was still too fresh to push it away. Only too well did he remember that uncontrolled anger, that had not been his own and how it had taken hold of him so much that he had started to push his friends away.

Harry never wanted something like this to happen again.

"I- I'm sorry." He stammered.

"Harry…" Hermione sighed heavily. "It's ok." She tried a sympathetic smile, seeing how pale he had gotten, but Harry didn't see it.

"No it's not." His voice was hardly more than a whisper, he wanted to turn away.

However his friend kept him from doing so - grabbing Harry's shoulders she forced him to look at her. "Of course it's not, Harry. But we're friends, we forgive each other. We argue, we say all the wrong things at times and we might not even mean them, but in the end we forgive each other. It all happens."

"But it shouldn't." Harry tried to avoid her eyes, but failed. "Not like this. Not the way I-"

"Don't.even.go.there. Hear me Harry?!" The grip on his shoulders tightened and Hermione shook him slightly. "I know that look on your face and I tell you now and I'll tell you again and again: It.is.not.true. You are not like him. You never were and you never will be. I know you think that you two have so much in common and you know what? I won't argue with you about that fact, _but _looking at all the ways in which you're similar to each other I can tell you of at least twice as many ways in which you're completely different. In case you've forgotten, Harry, you're not a ruthless murderer. And you've got friends that care about you, people that love you and who you care about and love in return. You-Know-Who is nothing like that."

Pausing for a moment Hermione smiled.

"I know that Ron can be a terrible idiot sometimes and there are many situations when I'd love to give him a good smack too…" She acted like she did not hear her boyfriend's offended grunt. "…but that's just the way he is. The way I can be an awful know-it-all and the way you just lose your temper." She smiled. "This doesn't mean anybody of us is a bad person, it's just us. And in case you need reminding, we're in this together, you understand?"

Harry did not know how to respond to this, so he just nodded.

His mouth felt very dry and he wished he would be able to express just how grateful he was for what Hermione had said. He knew she meant all of it and it started to make him feel better already.

_I wouldn't know what I'd do without them. _

"You don't know how- how much that means to me…"

Hermione chuckled, making Harry blink in surprise. "Believe me Harry, I do. And if you're wondering how I know, then you have obviously no idea of just how expressive your face can be."

Huffing slightly, Harry tried to hide the fact that her words made him blush.

"Can we stop being all pathetic and sentimental now?" Ron had his arms folded and looked pleased, as he finally spoke up.

"Right." Nodding, Hermione straightened out her hair.

For a moment silence filled the room, before they all broke out into laughter…


	4. Chapter 4

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read it, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Hey guys! Here's the next chapter, I'm quite glad that it didn't take me toooo long. (scratches her head) To be honest, I thought I wouldn't be updating so soon.

But then again, all your reviews have been sooo great and encouraging! Thanks a million:) I still can't believe it! I love you all so much! I hope you'll like this chapter just as much as you liked the ones before! I'm trying to improve all the time, haha. The storyline is going to get more complicated soon and there'll be loads of revelations. (chuckles) I'm looking forward to hear (or read) your opinions, please stay with me and let me know what you think! Questions are always welcome too!

**Duchess Ravenheart** & **MyraHellsing**: Of course you do know that I won't be able to (or more like, I don't want to, haha...) answer any of your questions, right?! (laughs) But I can assure you that every one of these questions will be answered in due time, as the story develops. I hope you'll all be satisfied with my explanations that will follow in the story at some point, I'm a big one for logic, so I tried to make it all as logical as possible. :)

/T/H/ indicates start of a new scene

---- means short scene change

Enjoy!

* * *

It was way past midnight, when Harry was finally able to get at least _near _a bed. He was so tired - he didn't even know how he was still able to hold his eyes open. 

Hermione and Ron had expectedly been rather unsettled by the fact that Voldemort was bound to Harry by a spell, meaning they would – apart from some adjustments – be somewhat inseparable. The fact however that this also meant Harry was not in mortal danger for the time being, seemed like the end justified the means for both his friends.

To Harry's mind this point of view was quite arguable, but then again it wasn't like they had many other options and when it came down to him being tied to Voldemort or one of his friends, he preferred to do it.

Not because he did not trust them, it was more a question of… knowing how to cope.

He didn't exactly enjoy being together with the dark wizard day and night, but he wasn't scared either. The only thing he was actually really worried about at the moment was how he would be able to fall asleep with the other in the same room…

_I don't think he's going to murder me in my sleep. _Harry thought, frowning at his own silliness. _But I do feel a bit vulnerable going to bed without any __**proper **__protection. _

"Who knows, if he even sleeps at all." The young wizard muttered to himself, as he pulled his sweatshirt over his head.

"What makes you think I wouldn't?"

The sudden voice so close behind him, made Harry nearly jump out of his skin and just a bit more, he would've even shouted out. Fortunately he hadn't been _that _startled.

"Don't.ever.do.this.again!" He panted, feeling ridiculous and awkward, as he stood there with his shirt still halfway over his arms and shoulders. "And if you haven't noticed, I'm changing!"

Raising an eyebrow, Riddle's lips curled into an amused smirk, but he turned away. "Oh dear…"

"What's that supposed to mean?" The younger one grumbled, as he watched the other retreat. Hastily he tried to un- and redress, before Riddle would turn his attention back to him.

"Oh, I don't know. I guess I'd have never expected Harry Potter to be such a girl."

"I'm not."

"Right." Riddle chuckled and it sounded real, not at all sarcastic. It made Harry blink in surprise and he found himself staring at the other. If he wouldn't see it with his own eyes, he wouldn't have thought it possible for a face to change so much just by a smile.

"So how come you think I wouldn't need any sleep?" The elder repeated is earlier question.

"Wha-? Oh, I…" Harry trailed off.

Well…?

Quite honestly, Harry thought with a puzzled face, he just couldn't imagine Voldemort – the snake like one that is – to lie in bed or sit in an armchair snoring away.

The thought made him involuntarily grin and he had difficulty to keep a straight face.

"Potter, you're really an idiot." Riddle's words were reproving, as he shot the boy a spiteful glare. It _almost _seemed like he was pouting.

"Why and here I was, believing you, when you said I had brains. Was that a lie after all?" Harry couldn't hold back any longer, his stomach had started to hurt and he broke out laughing. This must have been the most unreal moment in his entire life.

"Well, maybe I was mistaken." The elder folded his arms and turned towards the window.

"Who would've thought the Dark Lord would ever admit to a mistake?" Harry tried to get his composure back - feeling a little disturbed all of the sudden. It had just been a day, not even quite and… he had let his guard down.

However short the moment had been, it wasn't right.

The other wizard seemed to have noticed the sudden change in atmosphere, as he gave Harry a shrewd smile, before he turned back to the window and starred out into the night.

Nothing more than a fleeting gesture and it had still caused Harry to catch his breath.

Did Voldemort know? Was this-? Could this all be a set-up? Was it possible for somebody to scheme things in such proportions? For the first time Harry had doubts whether he really knew just _how_ manipulative Tom Riddle could be…

The silence after their exchange stretched on for an unpleasantly long time.

Even though the tension in the room was palpable, it was somewhat fortunate that their conversation had died down for a while - this gave Harry the chance to seriously think over the situation he was in and how he was going to handle things.

"Afraid to go to bed, Harry?" Riddle was still standing at the window, when he uttered his prediction. "I can assure you, I won't try to harm you while you sleep."

Narrowing his eyes the younger halted his movement of bustling through an old wardrobe - into which he was about to put his clothes - and eyed the dark wizard. "You don't expect me to believe a word that comes out of your mouth, do you? Why wouldn't you use such an _excellent _opportunity, I don't suppose you suddenly care?"

"You're right, I don't."

Harry couldn't quite cover up his involuntarily wince at Riddle's sharp and icy tone.

"But what good would it do me to kill you now? It wouldn't lift the effect of the Binding Spell or help me in any way to get away from here; beside you don't really think I'd want to drag around a heavy corpse with me? Oh, and let's not forget your pathetic little friends, who'd be terribly upset. Believe me, if your death wouldn't have so many disadvantages for me at the moment, you can be sure that you wouldn't be alive anymore, Potter."

"Did anybody ever tell you what a selfish and heartless bastard you are?!" Harry said disgustedly. He had turned back to the cupboard in his anger and was now rummaging around in the drawers with more vigor than probably necessary to fit everything into the rather spacious shelves.

That's how he hadn't noticed that Riddle had left his place at the window.

The sudden feeling of somebody very close behind him, caused Harry to stiffen and he held his breath, as he felt cold fingertips sliding through his hair before they tugged some of his strands behind his ear. He didn't dare to move.

"That's only because they made me, Harry. Only because they made me." Riddle's warm breath against his ear was a stark contrast to the former touch of his cold hands and for a split-second Harry thought he had felt the other's lips brush his skin.

Just as sudden as all this had happened, it ended abruptly and the elder's presence was gone.

Finally able to breathe again Harry realized that he had started to tremble in shock and bent down to his bags, burying his fingers into one of the shirts to stop it. It didn't help much, but he remained in his crouched position nevertheless, pressing his eyes shut.

Slowly, very slowly did the other boy's words sink in, after his shock had started to subside a little and it was now that he was actually able to grasp what he had just been told.

_He's trying to play me. _

Trying to calm his breath, Harry could still feel his heart beating heavily against his chest.

_I don't know what his plan is, but I'm not going to fall for it. _

His thoughts were like a mantra to him and it shocked him just how much Riddle had been able to shake him up. It wasn't as much what he had done, but what he had said. Harry had difficulties not to listen to it. No, worse – not to believe Tom.

-That's only because they made me, Harry. Only because they made me.-

_God, I'm scared out of my mind._

/T/H/

"Good girl."

Big, round eyes blinked intently at Harry, as he stroked his snowy white owl lovingly. Her feathers felt warm and very soft under his fingers. Smiling slightly at Hedwig's happy hoots Harry carried her over to the window on his arm and opened it.

The incoming morning air was fresh and already a little warm from the sun, which was shining through the branches of a nearby tree and caressed over Harry's face. He closed his eyes at the feeling for a moment.

"Be careful, Hedwig. And wait for her to write a reply." Addressing his owl once more, while putting her down on the window sill, he tied a little roll of parchment to the leg Hedwig was holding up for him.

Harry gave her another soft pat and sent her off. "See you later!"

---------------------------

"Harry? I need to talk to you for a minute."

It was later that day that Taylor had approached him to have a word with Harry in private. Although he had made it clear to the older man that his friends were in on everything, Taylor's explanation that it might be better if two people had an eye on Voldemort had sounded reasonable enough.

Harry watched the other looking for something in his coat. He hadn't told anybody about his slight nuisance with Riddle and didn't plan on changing that. They wouldn't be able to help him, besides it was a lot more important right now to stay focused.

"I meant to give you this earlier, but the time just never seemed right. Here." Having found the object he had been looking for, Taylor produced a small golden cup from inside his coat and held it out to Harry. "Do you know what this is?"

Staring at the glittering vessel, Harry looked up to Taylor in disbelieve, before his attention was once again on the cup.

"Where-where did you get this?!"

"From your reaction, I gather you know what it is." The elder smiled and gestured for Harry to take it.

"Of course!"

The young wizard thought back to the moment he had first seen it. It had appeared in one of the memories about Voldemort's past, when he had still been in the body of Tom Riddle. If he wasn't mistaken, it was while Riddle had worked for Borgin and Burkes.

Helga Hufflepuff's cup.

It had been in the possession of Hepzibah Smith, until Riddle had killed and stolen it from her, that was, along with Salazar Slytherin's locket.

To tell the truth, if asked, Harry wouldn't have had the slightest idea of where to search for the cup, not forgetting that they weren't even sure, if it actually was a Horcrux. No matter how likely it was, though.

"Where'd you get it?" Harry asked again, while turning the little vessel around in his hands.

It was scary how sure he suddenly was that this was a Horcrux. As if he could feel it. Which was ridiculous of course, for the parts of Voldemort's soul had no connection to him whatsoever…

Right?

Uncertainty started nagging at him all of the sudden and he couldn't explain it. Why should he be connected to Voldemort's Horcruxes? Then again… why shouldn't he? For all they knew, he had always been connected to everybody and everything that had something to do with the Dark Lord. And Harry hated it.

"It was in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault at Gringotts." Taylor explained matter-of-factly, as if it would be the only place it obviously had to be.

"A vault at Gringotts? But… how'd you get in there?"

"Well, it seems the Deatheaters haven't tried to take over Gringotts yet. Not completely, that is. But since I got the Dark Mark there wasn't any questioning about me at the entrance anyway, and then it got a little more complicated of course." The elder smiled so typically for himself. "Nothing a few Imperius Curses couldn't take care of, though."

Harry starred at him dumbfounded. "You make it sound like a stroll in the park."

"Well, it wasn't quite _that _simple." Taylor chuckled.

"So… so it is…?" Halting, the young wizard looked at the other, still unsure whether he could trust him or not. He obviously had to know about the Horcruxes, otherwise he wouldn't have gone through such length to acquire the cup, would he?

"A Horcrux, yes. We believe so."

"We?" Harry asked confused, looking back down at the little cup that seemed so inconspicuous.

"Well, Dumbledore and… the people that knew about them."

Seeing that Taylor knew about the Horcruxes and actually brought one to Harry, finally seemed to be confirmation enough for him to trust the other wizard. And he had saved his life as well, which he wouldn't forget. However there were still so many unanswered questions about Taylor, things – now that he had time to think about it – that would help immensely to solve the puzzle of the mystery how Harry had actually ended up at Grimmauld Place.

How Voldemort was able to break the enchantment. _If _Voldemort broke the enchantment and why he had suddenly changed back to his former self. As well as where Taylor had come from all of the sudden. Why Dumbledore had never told Harry about the other wizard, who was clearly very well informed about everything.

"Dumbledore… never mentioned you." Harry stated thoughtfully.

"No he didn't and I can't answer you, as for why he had refrained from doing so, but I'm sure he had his reasons. For now, the only thing I can tell you is that I'm on your side and I'll be here to help you whenever you are in need for my help, even though I might not be around all the time."

Looking at the elder closely, while he was listening to him gave Harry a calming feeling, as though his words were able to sooth all his worries, to make all his problems fade away. It was a strange and pleasant sensation at once. He couldn't explain were this deep trust to the other had suddenly come from, especially if he thought about the fact that he hadn't been trusting Taylor at all just a few minutes ago.

"So… so, won't you tell me anything about you at all?" The younger asked, sounding a little disappointed. He had almost forgotten the cup in his hands.

"Oh, of course I will. What would you like to know?" Taylor's answer surprised Harry; he had honestly expected to be turned down with another cryptic sentence.

"Well, I…" But he trailed off, frowning slightly, as he thought of the most pressing question he had for the other. It was quite hard he had to admit, there were so many things he wanted to know. So many questions he longed to ask.

"You said you knew Sirius. How come…?"

"We were together in Azkaban." It was the first time Harry actually saw Taylor's smile waver for a moment and he couldn't help the heavy feeling that formed in his stomach.

"Azkaban…?" He echoed.

The other nodded. "Yes. I was in Azkaban for 5 years. I think I met your godfather, when he had been there for 4 years. I wish I could've helped him back then, for I believed he was innocent, when he told me. It was peculiar, to tell the truth, how we got acquainted. It wasn't after a long time of course that he started telling me he was innocent and about you and Voldemort. I had the Dark Mark, so he thought I was a Deatheater convicted for my crimes during the Dark Lord's reign, it took me awhile to convince him otherwise."

"Why… why were you in Azkaban then?" Harry asked, a lump in his throat, thinking of Sirius was still hurting, made him still feel guilty at times and even angry with himself.

Eventually Taylor's smile vanished completely from his face. It made him look older, sad even and it gave his features a somewhat sunken look. That's when Harry knew and he recalled the moment he had first seen the other's face and thought that there had been something familiar about it.

It was the same expression Sirius had had after escaping from Azkaban.

"For murder."


	5. Chapter 5

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read it, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: New chapter! I managed to be a bit faster this time!

Thanks sooo much for your lovely comments! Please keep this up guys, I love it very, very much to read your suggestions, questions and comments about what you like about the story! Every time I get a new comment, it just encouraging me more to write on! Thanks a million for your support!

**White winged Angelgirl**: Your question definitely makes a lot of sense, haha. However, it was never mentioned that it were Death Eaters that appear when Voldemort's name was spoken, was it? I don't think so. In any case, beside the fact that you don't actually know yet, who caused the trouble after the members of the Order said Voldemort's name, Tom has a pretty good reason for not saving himself with just calling out his own name. You'll find out in due time. So, please stay with me and you'll soon see!

**Rikali**: I can tell you that much: Taylor isn't Harry from the future.

Please enjoy and let me know what you think about it! Thanx so much for your support!

Have fun!

* * *

Lying in his bed that evening, Harry couldn't get the conversation with Taylor out of his head.

Looking back to it now, he felt as if they had been talking for hours and in the end he was surprised that the whole talk with Taylor had actually turned out to be a lot longer and more informative than he had dared to hope.

_"For__- for murder?!"__ Harry choked out__ before he could stop himself. _

_Taylor was silent after that for a long time, he had turned his head towards the window and stared absentmindedly into the distance. And Harry noticed that the other had started to chew on his lower lip, which, he thought, made Taylor look a lot younger. _

_Halting at this, the younger tried to guess how old the other wizard could be. He had to be around 30, was the conclusion Harry reached after awhile, considering the 5 years in Azkaban. _

_"Harry…" _

_"__Ye__- yeah?"__ Surprised that Taylor addressed him after such a long silence, he sat up._

_"Harry, don't be mad at me, but… I'd really appreciate it if we could continue this part of our conversation another time. Trust me, I want to tell you, but… it doesn't feel right, just yet." _

_Unable to respond to the elder's words for a moment, Harry just blinked and looked at him. Taylor sounded honest and he could see that it was everything else but easy for him to talk about this part of his past, although Harry couldn't say it didn't disappoint him. _

_In the end he nodded. "I understand. It's just…"_

_"I didn't do it because I was a Death Eater. It was… after my time at the Dark Lord's side."_

_Harry tried a small smile. "I see."_

…

Letting out a loud sigh, Harry starred at the ceiling. He was grateful for a little time alone.

He didn't know exactly where Riddle was, but he was probably walking around the house. Although they had cleaned out Grimmauld Place about two years ago and with that had thrown most of the dark artifacts, he was sure there would be some leftovers.

The thought made him worry, maybe he should go and check on things the next day just to make sure Riddle wouldn't find anything funny.

Turning around, Harry looked out of the window - it started to get dark outside and Hedwig hadn't returned yet. It wasn't that he felt impatient, but he was worried about his owl. With her white feathers, she would be rather distinctive.

_I'm sure, she's fine. She's a clever bird, after all. _

His thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Taylor. What the other hadn't told him before was that one of the various protections that kept them safe inside the house was a charm that prevented anybody – however powerful they might be – to cast the Unforgivables or any other curse, hex or jinx that could harm somebody.

Now it actually made sense to him, why Ron had been so… _brave_ - more like reckless really - the day they had arrived here at Grimmauld Place, for he was usually the first person to wince at the sound of Voldemort's name. Really funny how people's courage can increase.

What also turned out to be rather enlightening were some new details about the Binding Spell that kept Harry and Voldemort together. He had followed the topic slightly grudgingly, though, wishing Taylor would have told him everything about it in the first place. However, if this was all about the spell now… Harry wasn't too sure.

The discovery that they could adjust the length of the thread proved to be quite useful, otherwise they really would have been on each other's back all the time. A rather disturbing thought.

It would be different on the outside, as Taylor had pointed out. Seeing as they could walk around quite freely inside of Grimmauld Place, this was certainly not going to be the case if they left the house. The more Harry had heard about the spell, the trickier he found it. Some details had actually let on that the spell seemed to have a mind of its own, which could act according to the situation without them having any say in it.

It was, after all, there to keep the two connected people safe.

Harry sighed again and sat up. Maybe he should stop lying around uselessly; he felt like he was starting to stick to the mattress already. It was still too early to go to bed, so he slid off the bed and walked over to the wardrobe.

Without opening it, he looked at the old wooden surface.

He had hidden the Horcrux between his clothes, in the far back of one of the drawers. It was the safest place he could think of at the moment. Hopefully Dumbledore had been right when he had told him that the owner would not feel if a Horcrux was near.

Turning away, he heard Hermione and Ron argue on the second landing and shook his head.

_That must be love…_

Harry's eyes came to a rest on Riddle's bed. It looked just as unused as it had when they had entered the room for the first time, with the slight difference that the blanket seemed to be a little straightened out.

A frown tugged on Harry's forehead, as he remembered that Riddle had been sitting on his bed this morning, when he had woken up. Well alright, Harry hadn't really expected to find the other lying in bed, covered in blankets and asleep, but the view had still surprised him. Whether Riddle had slept however, he couldn't say.

The dark wizard had been sitting there, with his back resting against the headboard and his head leaning back against it as well. The thing that had given Harry the creeps though, was the fact that Riddle had his eyes closed, but Harry had not been able to tell for sure if he was asleep or not.

Shaking his head, Harry tried to get rid of his worries for the moment. What really gave him a headache was that they didn't know yet how they were supposed to destroy the Horcruxes.

Back in the Chamber of Secrets at school, it had been the Basilik's venom that had been able to destroy Riddle's diary. But how were they going to get their hands on that kind of poison? Or was there a different way to destroy the Horcruxes? Harry was clueless, to say the least.

"Harry?"

It was Hermione, who was now poking in her head through the door. She looked slightly relieved when she found him alone and entered.

"What is it?"

"You know…" Harry was a little surprised, she always started like that if she wasn't sure Harry would approve of her words or not. "…Ron and I, we were thinking…"

"Yeah?"

"Well, you know. Maybe… maybe we could go out tomorrow to find out about a few things. If you wouldn't mind of course, then we would stay and-"

"What do you mean, if I wouldn't mind?" Frowning, he looked confused.

"See, since… since you're bound to Riddle and you're still underage, you can't do any magic and the possibility that we might get attacked… We just thought the risk would be too high and figured we might go and check things out. We wouldn't take long and it's just a temporary thing of course, as soon as you're of age you could-"

"Hang on." Taking in the sudden rush of words from his friend, it took him a minute to make sense of it all. "Are you…? You're not suggesting that you and Ron go by yourselves and I'd be stuck here, are you?"

"Well… well…" Hermione stared down at her feet. "That's what we thought… would be safest for you." She finally admitted quietly, without looking up.

"Safest for me…" Harry stared at her for a long moment. Her explanation made sense, after all he _wasn't_ allowed to do magic outside of school yet. There would be a trace and if they would indeed get into an attack, Harry would have to defend himself. He would obviously have to make use of his magical powers, which would blow their cover.

It was bitter.

"Is… Taylor back yet?" He changed the subject on purpose; this was something he had to take in first.

Hermione shook her head. "No. No, not yet."

A long silence stretched between them, in which Hermione had started to gnaw on her lip nervously and Harry was just standing there, staring off into the air.

He didn't like the idea. At all. It felt like he was useless, like he was a millstone around their necks.

"I-I think you're right." Surprised at his own words, Harry looked at his friend, who returned his gaze - obviously not quite understanding what he had just said.

"You… you mean?" She sounded hopeful, almost relieved. Maybe she had expected an argument?

"Yes." Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, I think… that would be… the best for now."

_I really don't like this. Why can't I be of age yet? Why… it is just frustrating._

"Oh Harry!" Relief and happiness spread across her face, as she wrung her hands a little. "I'm so glad you understand this. I had hoped… you know, Ron wasn't sure, if… This is great! We'll be quick and… and it's just until you turn 17!"

Not feeling happy at all he forced himself to smile at her.

"I'll go and tell Ron! And as soon as Taylor comes back with some food, I'll make some dinner, ok?" Hermione dashed off and Harry heard her running up the stairs.

_Probably happy I didn't make a scene,_ he thought gloomily, but tried to push the thought away. _They're my friends. They're only trying to do what's best for me. They're worried…_

"I just wish, everybody wouldn't always think they knew what's best for me." Harry muttered and strode over to the window - the hands buried in his pockets were clenched. Even though he told himself that it wasn't any good to hold a grudge against his friends, it just wasn't easy to hear that you were practically useless either.

Harry didn't know how long he stood there at the window and watched the last light of the day receding. A strange feeling ran down his spine, as he watched darkness creeping into every corner, swallowing up the last bit of light there was.

The creaking of the door made him flinch slightly and he turned around.

For a moment Harry just stood there and looked at Riddle, unblinking. Then he turned back to the window again and watched the other's reflection in the glass.

"Interesting house you got here."

He didn't have to see Riddle's smirk in the window, to tell what his expression was.

"Who would've thought Bellatrix was Black's cousin. Quite interesting, that."

"Thought you knew everything about your servants." Harry said. "Just so you know how to blackmail and threaten them, if necessary."

Apparently ignoring the younger's words, Riddle said: "You can never tell who'll be the person to end your life. Could be your own blood. Isn't that rather unsettling? Doesn't seem like blood is thicker than water after all."

"You're terrible."

A low laugh echoed through the silence for a few seconds. "What's so terrible about stating the truth? Not always easy to take, I can see that."

"It's not about the truth." Harry turned around, once more, to face Riddle. "It's about how you're trying to destroy everything. How you're deceiving, threatening, and killing people!" His voice rose at the end. "How can somebody be like that?" Shaking his head, the question was barely a whisper.

"Maybe you should look at it the other way around."

Harry frowned.

"Do you think I would've had any followers in the first place, if there hadn't been enough people to share my opinions, my views on the world as it was back then?"

Opening his mouth to protest, Harry closed it again and pressed his lips together.

A small smiled spread over Riddle's lips. "I told you already, Harry, and I'll tell you again: whatever Dumbledore has said about me, whatever information you got on me, they're not going to help you. You've no idea who I am. You just believed what the old fool has told you about good and bad people, about black and white. I said, I think you've got more brains than you're letting on and I'm still sticking to my words, but I think you were just taught one side of the story."

"In the part of the _story _I heard my parents got killed, my godfather, many innocent people, people that hadn't done anything wrong, but had to die simply because they were in your way. I really can't see how the other side of anything is going to change my view on these cruel murders." Harry said through gritted teeth.

"That's because you don't understand what sacrifices one has to make for Greatness."

"Sacrifices for Greatness? Excuse me if I got that wrong, but if somebody kills off innocent people, it hasn't got anything to do with sacrifices and he certainly isn't great. The only thing that person is, is a murderer!" He yelled furiously. "Is this what it's all about? Is that the reason, why all these people have to die? Why everybody has to live in terror? For your _Greatness_?!"

Clenching his fists, Harry tried to calm himself, but he was shaking with anger and disbelief.

_How dare he? How dare he talk about his sick plans to become immortal and great, if there are people out there suffering and dying because of something as trivial as greatness?_

"What gives you the right to rob everyone of their happiness?"

Riddle didn't answer. He was standing a few feet away from Harry, his expression unreadable.

"You've _got_ no right to do that." Harry had started trembling, however tight his fists were clenched, however hard he tried to control himself.

"I-I can't say why you think this is going to work, but it's not. You'll fail, like you failed before every time you tried to kill me. You'll fail, because what you're doing is wrong. People hate you and even your own servants despise you, because you treat everybody like dirt. They'll betray you, everybody is going to leave you, and you'll be alone."

"Shut up!" He heard Riddle warn dangerously, but paid no attention to it.

Harry had waited so long for this, he had always wished for the chance to shout in Voldemort's face about how wrong he was, how insane his whole obsession with Greatness and Immortality was. Because if he wouldn't, who would?

"Dumbledore saw right through you, but he didn't hate you. He took pity on you and I can see why. I hate you, but… I also feel sorry for you. That's probably the only reason why instead of killing you, I'd like to change you. You're telling yourself you don't need anybody, but all the power of the world won't change the fact that you're all alone. Loneliness makes you feel cold inside. Cold and sad and then angry… because you think nobody cares. And at some point… you just start hating everybody. You're telling me I've got brains… but I don't need brains to know where you're coming from-"

"I said: _Shut up_!"

Before Harry could react, Riddle had grabbed his shirt and slammed him back against the window sill.

Harry gasped in shock and tried to struggle, but the pain that flooded his entire body seconds later, wasn't just from his collision with the hard stone. It was the same pain he had felt earlier - when Riddle had attacked him in his room, back at the Dursleys.

Trying to breathe, Harry had hardly any power to defend himself. He looked back at the other, but the eyes that stared back at him so full of hatred were brown. Not red.

Not like Voldemort.

"How dare you, Potter?" Riddle's words were but a mere hiss, his voice was shaking. "How dare you tell me how I felt?! Just because _you_'ve maybe been left behind once or twice in the corridor by your pathetic little friends, who went to lunch without you, you think you can talk like that?"

Growing considerably pale, Harry couldn't answer. It became harder by the second for him to breathe and he gasped helplessly, feeling panic rising up in him.

_What's happening? Why's this happening again? I can't-_

"You don't know anything about me!" Riddle spat tremulously, before he let go of Harry, who fell back against the window.

Everything was blurred around him, he felt the ground beneath his feet moving and grabbed for the sill behind himself. Feeling his stomach churn terribly, Harry feared he would throw up any minute, pressing a hand to his mouth, still desperately gasping for air.

He felt dreadful and when his vision eventually started to slide back into focus…

…Riddle was gone.

Trembling, Harry tried to get himself to his bed and stumbled several times, as his legs gave out. A shaky sigh left his lips, when he finally sank down on the blanket and let himself fall back. He closed his eyes, running one hand over his face.

Something wasn't quite right, but he didn't know how to explain it.

Obviously it had something to do with the connection, this _link _he and Voldemort shared. Something was wrong with it and Harry didn't understand what had happened. The link usually meant that he was having nightmares or that his scar would hurt, whenever the dark wizard experienced very strong emotions of hatred or fury that he didn't seem to be able to control.

His scar had not hurt ever since…

Harry frowned and tried to remember the last time his scar had hurt.

The lake. The last time his scar had given any kind of reaction was at the lake. At the time he had seen or… believed he had seen Voldemort. His scar had prickled slightly. But ever since… nothing. Not even now that the other was so close.

The reason for all this had to be that the link between them was somehow corrupted.

Maybe that's why he experienced this agonizing pain every time Riddle was furious or quite out of control. The emotions tried to leak through, but for some reason they couldn't.

Rubbing over his forehead, Harry sighed again. This was so useless. He had no idea what was going on. If it was about their link, then what had happened to it? Why should it suddenly stop working? He hadn't changed, and Voldemort?

Well… he _did _change to the appearance of Tom Riddle, but that couldn't be the cause, or… could it?

Harry rolled onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow.

_How the hell should I know? Why's all this happening to me anyway? Can't everybody just leave me alone? There's a book for every damn thing, just not for the stuff I need a book about. _

Did Dumbledore know about all this? Would he have been able to answer him?

"How am I supposed to solve all these riddles?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Ooohh, guys... I'm SO sorry. I know, it took me forever to update this and... vV Uh, I feel very bad, but I couldn't manage earlier. University started for me two weeks ago and I'm still surprised how much work all this can be. Well, now that things have become a bit more quiet again, I finally took the time to update this chapter! I could ramble on, telling you how often I rewrote it and how many mistakes there were to correct, but... XD I might want to keep that to myself.

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews from you!! I love you all, please keep this up and forgive me for making you wait!

Enjoy!

* * *

"It's been _two _days! Why don't we know anything new?!"

Hidden in the dark shade of a tree, nobody could see the irritated expression flickering over the stranger's face. "Why don't you just conduct a little 'experiment'? Wouldn't that be quite simple, seeing that you've got both _subjects_ at hand?"

Taylor shot the other a disgusted look. "How can you talk like that? You know better than to make it all sound like some game."

"Oh, I certainly do. It's just getting rather tiresome to listen to your useless complaints."

Feeling trapped with the whole situation, Taylor had started to pace up and down the little clearing. "Well, I don't know about you, but we can't wait for a miracle to happen. Harry has believed my… explanations…" He narrowed his eyes, as his opposite snorted mockingly. "About the 'Binding Charm'… so far, but he sure asks a lot of questions. I don't think he has any suspicions though."

A sneer echoed through the air. "Why, of course he hasn't! It's Potter we're talking about. He's clueless as can be. I'm surprised you're even worried about him."

Taylor glared at his opposite once more, but resumed in a forced calm tone. "In any case, if not for Harry, Riddle is bound to pick up on something. And as soon as he does, he's going to use it to his advantage. You-Know-Who isn't going to sit around and watch us mess up his plans."

"You didn't forget that he might be weakened now?"

"No." Sighing loudly, Taylor ran a hand through his long hair. "But we don't have any proof yet. How are we supposed to be sure?"

"I assume you took his wand?"

"I did."

"What about the incident at that Muggle house?"

"No reaction."

"Then it's true." The person in the dark shifted slightly as he crossed his arms.

"How can you be so sure?" Taylor looked skeptically.

But his question only earned him another malicious sneer. "You must be just as simple-minded as Potter. Who do you think the Dark Lord is?"

"Your nasty comments aren't helping, you know!"

Giving an exasperated sigh, the other pushed himself off the tree. "I've got to go. I shall be contacting you within the next day. Meanwhile you better keep a close eye on both of them." A smug smile played over his lips. "Which shouldn't be too difficult, even for you, giving that they're right under your nose."

Taylor ignored the insult. "It doesn't seem to sit well with his friends to hide things from Harry like this, either. They're worried about him."

"Oh please, spare me any friendship dilemmas!" And with that and a loud crack the hidden person was gone - leaving Taylor behind, who stared at the vacated spot in contempt.

"Bastard."

/T/H/

A loud clatter and slightly muffled shriek caused Harry to bolt upright in his bed.

Wide eyed, he looked around as he fumbled for his glasses. Putting them on, Harry blinked and tried to make out from where the ruckus had come from.

Then he heard a consistent tapping noise and turned towards the window.

"Oh! Hedwig." Harry jumped out of the bed, hurried over to the window and ripped it open.

Hedwig swooped into the room immediately, giving him a slight peck on the head and flew a circle along the ceiling before she settled down on Harry's shoulder.

"Don't look at me like that." Harry grumbled, rubbing his head. "It's not like I _meant _to lock you out."

She held her leg out for him. A rather large piece of parchment was attached to it and, by the look of her face, she didn't seem too pleased at all.

"Ah, yeah…" Giving his owl an apologetic glance, he untied the little lace and took the letter. "I thought, it might be a little… uh, much." Harry laughed nervously at Hedwig's sullen glower and walked over to the cabinet on which her cage stood.

Grabbing a small box from underneath one of the shelves, he sprinkled a few of the owl snacks onto the ground of the cage. "Taylor brought some nice, new things for you too. They're down in the kitchen, I'll get them for you in the morning, ok?"

Apparently appeased by that, Hedwig nipped his ear in an affectionate way and jumped over to the open cage door; before she settled down to have her midnight snack.

Harry walked back to his bed and switched the light on his nightstand on.

It was quite peculiar to find such an object in the Black's house, who had been a pureblood wizarding family through and through, but Mr. Weasley must have brought the lamp in while the Order had still had their headquarters here.

Finally unrolling the rather long piece of parchment, Harry started reading:

_Hi, Harry,_

_Thanks for your letter. It was really great to hear from you, especially since nobody knew what was going on. I'm doing quite well myself, just a bit boring at home without you guys._

_Bad news though, Harry. Luna read the letter. _

_I was upstairs when Hedwig arrived and she just opened it. You know how she is. In case you're wondering why she's here, it's because of the wedding, of course. The Burrow is packed! Well, Luna and her dad live pretty close to Ottery St. Catchpole and since she's in my year at school, Mom thought it'd be nice to invite them. _

_Anyway… to your questions. To be honest, I was surprised that you suddenly asked about Riddle and the diary. Is everything alright? That Taylor bloke wouldn't tell us anything, really suspicious, but dad seemed to know him. _

_Thinking back to first year now, I feel quite embarrassed that I fell for that diary so easily, but then again… I was 11. It was scary, to tell the truth. When I started to use the diary, I was really surprised that it answered back, but you know… Tom sounded nice enough. He was really understanding and sympathetic. He never laughed about any of my problems, even if they were childish and stupid. There are still times when I'm thinking back and find myself wondering how somebody who had appeared to be so nice and charming, can be such a monster._

_It still scares me._

_He always listened and responded, without making me feel like I was getting on his nerves or anything. I really felt as if I could tell him anything, he would understand, he would help me. The diary became my best friend, the only thing I confided in and that I thought I needed. _

_And that's when my blackouts started. I couldn't remember where I was at certain times or how I had gotten to some places. At first it was only a short time, but it got worse and worse. Until, well… you know all the things he made me do. But even then, even after things had started to happen, I still thought I could trust him. Every time I wrote to him, he sounded honestly shocked and concerned. _

_You can't imagine how deceiving he could be. He would tell me anything I wanted to hear, comfort me with the words that I had hoped somebody would say to me. He always seemed to know what I needed, what I came to him for. _

_I don't know if he knew me so well because I had told him so much or if he just knew what the darkest secrets and desires that I had. _

_Well and after you had destroyed the diary and saved me, although I knew that Riddle had just used me and that he had lied to me all the time, that he was actually Voldemort… I felt like I had lost my best friend. I couldn't explain to myself why I was so sad and helpless on my own. I felt betrayed and alone. It was terrible. _

_I can't explain it with logic, because logic doesn't work that way. I could tell myself a thousand times that everything was just a big fat lie, that he was a bastard who had felt nothing for me in return, while I had trusted him like nobody else before – I still felt hurt and deceived. _

_Tom Riddle was the worst thing that ever happened to me. _

_I guess that's all I can say about that. Hope it will be of any help to you. It's really not easy to talk about it, even after such a long time, because it makes me feel vulnerable. But since it was you asking, I didn't mind too much. I trust you Harry. _

_I think that's all for now. I'd be happy to hear from you again! _

_Take care of yourself and say "hi" to Ron and Hermione from me!_

_Love, Ginny!_

For a long time Harry just sat there and stared at the roll of parchment in his hands. His stomach had turned over several times at Ginny's descriptions and instead of feeling relieved to have all this helpful knowledge now, he felt awful.

Couldn't she have just told him it hadn't been all that bad and that it was actually quite easy to see through Riddle's masquerade? Obviously not…

"Great." Harry rolled the parchment back up, when his eyes drifted involuntarily over to Riddle's empty bed and halted there. A small frown made its way to his forehead.

He hadn't seen the other since their… well, sort of argument. It didn't surprise him much that Riddle had not joined them for dinner, but he had thought that he would at least come back to their room later on to sleep or… sit on his bed, whatever it was he did at night.

_And there he was, telling me I'm a girl._

Harry hadn't bothered to look for Riddle, but now he wasn't so sure anymore if that had been the right decision. They were supposed to keep an eye on him after all. Most of the time however, Harry had been so relieved not to be around the other that he couldn't possibly bring himself to go and try to find him.

Maybe now was a good opportunity to change that.

Unwillingly, Harry pushed himself off the bed and strode over to the wardrobe, where he stuffed the letter into one of the drawers and closed the doors again.

Hedwig had finished her food by now and sat on the little bar in her cage, dozing off. It must be two or three o'clock in the morning. Not very likely that there would be anybody awake but him. Well, and Riddle maybe… wherever he was.

Harry left his room and looked around.

The hallway was quite dark. The lights had been extinguished.

For a second he looked at the door that led to the room right next to his, which was occupied by Taylor. Hermione and Ron were in a room together on the second landing. Harry had been quite surprised about that, but it seemed like the two had worked out their relationship and were getting along rather well – ignoring their occasional bickering.

_Well, reckon that's what love is all about after all. Would be pretty boring, if everything would be cream and peaches all the time, I suppose. Not like I've got much experience in long-term relationships anyway. _

Slowly, Harry crept along the gloomy hallway.

There was a big chance that he would die of a heart attack if somebody would be creeping up on him right now. Hopefully Riddle had been sincere for once, when he said that Harry's death wouldn't be of any advantage for him.

Undecided, Harry halted at the staircase, pondering where he should start to search and eventually took the stairs up. The old planks were creaking under his feet.

He could hardly see anything with all the curtains drawn and squinted into the darkness, one hand clamped around the railing. If he would've been of age by now, he could have used _Lumos_. It seemed that every time Harry stumbled into a situation these days, it would have been a lot easier if he could use magic. He felt more and more annoyed about it.

Biting back a curse as he hit his foot against something, Harry looked around once more.

The longer he stood there in the darkness, chewing on his lower lip and still undecided how to find Riddle in this pitch black house, the more Harry felt his thoughts getting all mixed up.

_It's going to take __**ages**__! Why did I have the great idea to look for him in the middle of the night anyway? _

An uncomfortable feeling spread through his body, causing Harry to quicken his steps. He reached the third landing, shortly after he had checked the empty room next to Hermione and Ron's bedroom.

There was just one room on the third landing.

What was he going to do if he _did _find Riddle? Ask him kindly to go back with him to their room? That would just sound like he felt lonely or something. Besides, how would Riddle react to him anyway? Their last encounter had not been too promising.

_I don't really want to find him. _

Slowly and as quiet as possible, Harry tiptoed over to the door, which was left slightly ajar.

_I __**really**__ don't want to find him. _

Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open a little wider and scanned the room. The curtains weren't drawn here and the incident light made it considerably easier to see. Harry did not remember this room, probably because he could not recall ever going up all this way.

It seemed to be a rather big room, its walls covered by large bookshelves, all of them filled.

Apparently there wasn't anybody here either. Disappointment and annoyance waved up inside of him and Harry drew his brows together. He should not have started to search for Riddle in the first place. This was a waste of time. The house was huge and he could practically be everywhere.

More out of anger than anything else, he pushed the door wide open and was about to turn around, when he spotted something out of the corners of his eyes and stopped dead in his tracks.

Fortunately aware and quick enough Harry was able to grab the door knob just a second before the door would have slammed right into the wall behind it and consequently would have…

…woken Riddle.

Frozen half in midair, he stared at the other as he let out a relieved breath, his whole body tensed. He slowly let go of the knob and placed his other foot back onto the ground.

Pausing on the threshold, Harry took his time to study Riddle, who seemed to be indeed asleep.

_Otherwise he would have reacted, wouldn't he?_

For the first time did Harry actually realize how different everything was, just because Voldemort looked like his younger self and not like the monster he had been after his resurrection. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that only imagining sleeping in the same room with snake-like Voldemort made the hair of his neck stand on end.

Silly, and even scary as it sounded the appearance of a person does change appallingly much how you look at somebody. And Harry wasn't usually a person to judge somebody by looks only. Of course he had not forgotten that it was really Voldemort, but… it was still different.

Was that the reason Voldemort had changed back then?

There weren't many people who knew Tom Riddle after all. It would be easier for him to persuade unsuspecting wizards and lure them into trusting him, only to let the trap fall shut at the right moment. The question was: did he need all this? Wasn't his power or the terror he spread throughout the whole wizarding community powerful enough to get everything he wanted?

Harry honestly did not know.

What worried Harry most was, in fact, how human Voldemort looked, now that he wasn't this snake like creature anymore, with its sickening white skin, the gleaming red eyes and…

The breath caught in Harry's throat, the memory of what he had seen at the lake at Hogwarts suddenly coming back to him. What exactly had it been that he had seen on that day?

It had neither been Tom Riddle nor Voldemort.

All the features had been mixed up. He could remember the red flicker in those dark eyes, the so very short black hair, as… if it had just started to grow and the skin, still stark white on a bony face. And that Voldemort back than had had a nose - he had looked less like a monster, but not quite like a normal human being yet.

_It must've been in the middle of the transformation. But why did he show up at Hogwarts…?_

Harry couldn't get his head around it.

By the time Voldemort had showed up in his room, at Number 4 Privet Drive, the transformation had evidently been completed. There had been nothing left that would have reminded Harry of Lord Voldemort. Not even the red eyes.

No, at that time he had been his handsome, former self in all its perfection.

Charming and brilliant Tom Riddle, as he had looked while working at Borgin & Burkes. Only his hair seemed to be shorter now. Harry remembered the memory Dumbledore had showed him and had to admit that Riddle's startling beauty had even surprised him.

_No wonder he was popular, he could've killed with his looks. He seriously had it all: brains, looks and talent. Bet it wasn't all wonderful all the time, though. It wouldn't surprise me if people had been jealous. _

Harry frowned at his thoughts.

_I'm not feeling sorry for him. _

Ripped out of his musing by a sudden movement, Harry's eyes were back on Riddle. But the other had not woken. He was still sitting in a big, old armchair at the far left end corner of the room. A rather large book lay open on his lap. Maybe he had fallen asleep while reading?

_Never imagined Voldemort could look so __**peaceful**_, Harry thought with a scowl at the other.

For some odd reason, he seemed suddenly aware of the fact that Riddle must not have eaten anything, since they had come to Grimmauld Place the other day.

_Isn't he ever hungry? I would've thought even the Dark Lord would need some food. _

On the other hand, to imagine Riddle sitting at the same table as they were morning and evening eating meals, felt probably stranger than the fact that Voldemort might not need to eat at all. Although Harry doubted that somehow.

_If I were him, I would probably do just the same. _

Not really knowing what was actually going through his mind, Harry found himself five minutes later on the way down to the kitchen, determined to take some food up to the library room.

_Maybe that __**does**__ make me crazy and pathetic, so what? At least I'm not a heartless bastard!_

Upon finally reaching the kitchen however, he found himself slightly in distress - for the simple reason that he had no idea into which of these uncountable drawers, shelves and cupboards Hermione had stowed away their food.

_And_ he had no clue whatsoever what Riddle liked.

_Well, __**that**__ surely isn't my problem. The idiot should be grateful that I'm taking pity on him. _

Sighing at his own thoughts, Harry started to open and close drawers and cupboards, rummaging through shelves and wrestling with ingredients, until he had everything he needed on the table before him.

_It's got to be something simple. I've no desire to spend the rest of the night in the kitchen and… I can't cook anyway. How should I? Not like Aunt Petunia would let me ever get near her kitchen, let alone make myself some food. _

In the end he decided to make a few toasts, some with marmalade and some with ham, took one of the apples from a basket on the table and cooked up water for a cup of tea. He couldn't go to wrong with something simple like that. When he had finished, he put everything on a tray – after he had managed to find one, that is.

_Whatever people think of me, they can never call me an uncaring person. I mean who would try to keep their archenemy from starving? I bet not even Dumbledore would do that. _

After a long silence in which Harry just stood there and stared at the tray, he let out a long sigh.

_I'm still feeling totally ridiculous. _

The whole way back from the kitchen in the basement to the topmost level of the house seemed to take hours, for Harry tried to be as noiseless as possible. Especially now that an exposure to basically just anybody would have ended in an – for him – embarrassing disaster. And he felt stupid enough already, no need to increase that.

It seemed like a miracle when he finally did reach the third landing and stood in front of the door to the library room. The only thing he really wanted to do in that moment, however, was to smash the tray down, turn around and run back to his room, where he would be able to hide under his blanket.

_I'm going to kill myself if he wakes up. _

Swallowing, Harry pushed the door open very slowly with his foot and was relieved to find Riddle still asleep. Otherwise he would have turned around right away… obviously.

The encounter with – back then, still snake like – Lord Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic seemed suddenly less scary to Harry than this. And he felt quite certain that he wasn't exaggerating.

_Oh well, I'm not going to chicken out now. Right…? Right._

His feet hardly touched the ground as he made his way through the room.

Harry was so tense - he thought _if _Riddle would actually wake up right now, the chance that he might drop dead on the spot was very likely.

Fortunately the other didn't, or maybe had the decency to act at least as if he was still asleep. To Harry it was all the same, he was glad to pull the door shut behind himself and finally leave the room minutes later, without being caught.

Actually, he felt so exhausted after this whole endeavor of his that he just wanted to go back to bed.

When he finally did, he pulled his blanket tight under his chin as he sank deep into the soft mattress, finally able to breathe properly again. A short time later, Harry was already fast asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: I love you all so much!! I really can't emphasize it enough! Your reviews make me incredibly happy! Thank you sooo much for reading my story and for liking it of course, haha! I'm doing the best I can with every chapter and hope I'm improving! **akuma-river **I'm sooo sorry to disappoint you, but you must obviously know already, that I can't possibly answer any of your questions! XD But thanx a lot for you review! Stay with me!! **BlueEyes White Dragon Socerer **You'll be happy to find out that many of your questions are answered in this very chapter, haha! Enjoy!

Special thanks to **Pareidolia** for beta reading my story! hugs her very tightly I'm really grateful for your help! And I hope you won't get fed up with this story and especially not with me always writing "stared" as "starred" XDD I know the correct writing, but I really can't figure out, why I keep on repeating this mistake. Lots of love to you!!

/T/H/ indicates start of a new scene

Please enjoy and let me know, how you liked it!!

* * *

When Harry awoke the next morning, he felt weirdly exhausted, but at the same time very happy. Both were feelings which he couldn't quite explain. Although, his still sleep-fogged mind did not seem to care too much anyway. It was too early to start worrying already.

Unwilling to open his eyes just yet, Harry sighed and turned to the side, pulling his blanket with him and snuggling it around his shoulder. The moment that he stretched his legs however, he felt himself bump into something.

A frown tugged on his brows, as he blinked slightly and opened his eyes, looking up.

It hardly took him a second to jump into an upright sitting position, after he had spotted the person who sat at the end of his bed. Wide eyed, Harry stared at the other.

"You…!" The young wizard exclaimed ineloquently, sounding accusing all the while.

Riddle's lips stretched into an amused smile as he chuckled. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Uh…" Harry kept on staring at his opposite, feeling slightly stupid by now. He had just woken up, how was he supposed to be articulate and witty already? "No. No, you didn't." He muttered eventually and frowned.

Unconsciously he had grabbed his blanket tighter, holding it as if for protection.

_He didn't watch me sleep, did he? That would be really creepy… although that's exactly what I did yesterday. _

Immediately Harry's memory from last night came back to him and his cheeks seemed to grow a bit warm. Trying to fight back his blush, he managed to keep his face blank.

"Your friends are gone. They left a note in the kitchen." Riddle suddenly broke the silence that had become a little awkward. By the look on his face however, it appeared as if he had rather wanted to say something else.

"I see… thanks." Harry said cautiously. He did not know what else to say, still remembering their last talk, which really could not have gone any worse. He wasn't exactly afraid, but he did not need for the situation to repeat itself.

"About yesterday…"

_Oh, coming right to the point, are we? _

Quite honestly, Harry had not expected the other to bring the topic up, but was interested in what Riddle was going to say either way. An apology sounded rather far-fetched; this was still Voldemort they were talking about.

"I usually don't lose my temper like that."

_Oh, you don't? That's surprising really. _

Riddle must have guessed by the look on Harry's face what the younger had been thinking and gave him a slight scowl, before he returned to his composed self and carried on.

"I have to admit that I was quite impressed, however. You see, usually people don't talk to me like that. They wouldn't dare to."

"I can imagine." The younger blurted out, before he could hold back. Wincing at his own stupidity, he nevertheless had trouble to biting back a false apologetic grin. "Oops…"

"You're really pushing your luck, Potter." Riddle gritted out.

"That's what I'm always doing, don't you think?" Faking indifference, he returned the other's glare with an equally defiant look.

"I suppose."

Harry thought these words could have come from Snape as well.

Snape. He felt his temper rising, as he thought of his former teacher of Potion and Defense Against the Dark Arts. His hatred for the bastard had escalated drastically since Dumbledore's murder and Harry had sworn to himself to find Snape and make him regret he was ever born.

The thought startled the young wizard for a second and he blinked, looking at Riddle with a confused expression, who just raised his eyebrows in bemusement.

"So why are you here? I don't think this is about apologizing for almost killing me yesterday?" Harry asked.

Surprised, the other's lips quirked slightly. "Why would I suddenly start apologizing for trying to kill you?"

"Tz…"

"But well, if you would _stop_ interrupting me all the time, I would actually be able to say something." Harry could tell by Riddle's expression that he was annoyed. "I do want to speak about yesterday."

Seeing the other taking a deep breath, Harry had the feeling that talking about what happened wasn't too easy for the dark wizard. What would the reason for that be? Obviously Riddle wasn't sorry, so…?

"I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that."

His eyes widening a bit, Harry tried to look awaiting rather than gawking.

_This __**does **__sound suspiciously like an apology. _

"You're just an insolent boy and it's quite immature of me to let myself get provoked by your simpleminded accusations and assumptions."

_Oh well, maybe not…_

And before Harry could stop himself: "Why would you suddenly care? I'm almost 17. You didn't feel too concerned when you tried to attack me as a _baby_!"

Harry saw Riddle's jaw tightening, but to his wonder the other didn't say anything.

_Yeah, maybe he's right. Maybe I'm pushing my luck, so what? I'm not going to listen to one of his pretty articulated speeches. I'm not one of his admirers, hanging on his every word. _

"I'm not surprised anymore that you're getting yourself in trouble all the time. You just don't know when to be quiet, Potter." Shooting Harry a dangerous stare, Riddle was finally able to shut the other up, who looked sulky nevertheless. "Ever heard of the saying 'Think before you speak'?" Not waiting for an answer, he went on. "Obviously not."

Harry could have strangled Riddle for his smugness.

_Bloody… bastard!_

"In any case, I'm really glad you never took me up on my offer to join my ranks. You would have wasted my time to outrageous proportions, just looking at this ridiculous situation here."

"Are you finished whining?" Harry grumbled, slightly disgruntled.

Riddle smirked.

"Oh right! Tell me again I'm wasting your time! You're just loving this, don't you?!" His cheeks flushed faintly because of his irritation and he glared daggers at the other.

"You look almost cute, when upset."

Harry was about to go on in his rant, but halted and felt his face grow hot, which definitely wasn't anger anymore. "You…" At a loss of words, he pursed his lips, embarrassed.

"Idiot!" Doing the first thing that came to his mind to wipe the amused smile off of Riddle's face, he grabbed his pillow and threw it at the other, who was able to catch it with no real effort.

_What an… idiot! How dare he…?!_

What seemed to evaporate Harry's fury to great parts was the unexpected sound of Riddle laughing. Stopping his mental muttering, he felt himself looking at the elder, unable to move his eyes away from Riddle's face again.

It sounded… genuine.

Not false and cold. Not the high-pitched and hollow laughter he remembered from the memory Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. This was real and…

_Why does it make me feel so… funny? _

His forehead furrowed, Harry tried to get his confusion under control. He still could not help but wonder how a simple smile or a laugh could transform a person's face so much.

_With his cold behavior, he's just like Voldemort, even if he doesn't look like him anymore, but… when he laughs like that… he is so…different. _

"You're really pathetic, Potter. Jumping at everything one throws at you." Riddle was still chuckling.

"Well, I wonder how you would've looked in my position!" The younger shot back.

_Why did he have to turn into Voldemort?_

Harry kept looking at Riddle, as he remembered all the appalling things Ginny had written in her letter. It wasn't like he had ever expected Tom Riddle to be a nice person. Besides, the person on his bed wasn't him anymore anyway - this was the dreadful monster the young Riddle hadn't been yet.

Studying the other's features, Harry felt a pang of disappointment that confused him.

Why had somebody like Riddle became such a terrible person? He could have had the world at his feet with his talent, brilliance and looks alone. He would not have needed to threaten and kill people to become famous and unforgotten. It had just been a path he had chosen to go.

Why?

_He really __**does**__ hate people. _

The sudden realization seemed to literally hit Harry. Could it be true that it was all the same to Voldemort how he got the people he needed, even if he had to deceive or kill them? As long as he got what he wanted, it did not matter by which means.

Maybe Riddle never wanted to be famous by being loved and admired. Maybe he wanted to be feared, to scare people, make them shudder with fright by the sound of his name.

But why would somebody want something like that?

Harry had been too lost in his thoughts that he did not noticed Riddle watching him.

"If you ever wondered, I ate some of it."

It took the younger a moment to focus on what the elder had said, but then he nodded, feeling awkwardness coming back to him. "Uhm,… good."

_Where did that come from? And… did he have to mention it? How does he know it was me anyway? Uh, well… I'm probably the only person weird enough to do something like that. Ron and Hermione would never…_

Harry had to snicker inwardly at the thought. If he would ever tell Ron, his friend would most likely think he was mental and even Hermione, with her knack for house elves wouldn't have gone _that _far in her way to feel sympathy for others.

_And Taylor…? Oh, Taylor!_

He really spaced off too much. Harry looked back at Riddle and gestured to the other's bed, on which lay a little stack of folded clothes. "Taylor uh… brought these for you."

"Muggle clothes?"

"Well, you should be grateful for what you got. You didn't really expect any of us to spend money on you anyway, let alone wizarding robes, did you? Besides, what's wrong with Muggle clothes? It's not like you have to keep up a reputation around here." Harry found himself defending Taylor, for he thought Riddle was going to complain or sneer at the clothes. "And because you're not allowed to use any magic and we-"

"I _got _the hint. Did you hear me complaining?" Riddle interrupted him with an indignant look.

The younger glowered, offended.

"You must be getting this from the Mudblood."

"Don't call Hermione that! And as far as I know, you're just a half-blood _yourself_!"

Riddle sneered at him. "That's what you think."

"No, that's what I_ know_!"

"Well then you don't know a great deal about me."

"Think what you want!"

"I tend to do that." Riddle chuckled, which cause Harry to glare at him.

"You really think that you've got it so damn tough? Well, you don't."

"You just can't stand to be outsmarted by me."

Slapping his hand against his forehead, Harry couldn't refrain from grinning. This was _so _absurd. What were they actually _doing_? "Are you _ever _going to admit for _once _that you're wrong?"

"Not unless I really am."

"You must've been such a pain for the other poor students at Hogwarts, when you were still at school. I can see it now. And I thought Hermione was hard to cope with at times. Prefect, Head boy, best in every class, teachers loved you. God, I would've just _hated _you!"

"That's what a lot of people did." Stated Riddle calmly.

Suddenly sorry, Harry grimaced. "How can you say that so easily?"

A shrug. "Because it's the truth. People always envy others that have everything they want for themselves. It's pathetic really, but that's how people are."

"Not everybody is like that."

_A lot though, _Harry had to admit. Too well did he remember how touchy Ron had acted at times, when all the attention had been on Harry, when he had entered the Quidditch team in his first year or the Triwizard Tournament. But he pushed the thought away.

"Everybody is different, it's just normal that people aren't all as successful or famous as others, but that's no reason to treat them any different. Everybody has their strengths and weaknesses."

Riddle snorted.

"You might not believe it! But maybe that attitude was exactly what got you all that hatred from everybody else! I wouldn't like you either, if you'd treat me like dirt under your shoes. So much about calling me immature and you act like a little stuck-up prat!"

Harry saw the other narrow his eyes.

"Yes, I'm telling you what you don't want to hear and yes, I'll do it again and again. I don't care how highly you think of yourself! And a lot of other people don't either. Maybe you would've needed somebody far earlier to bring you back to the ground from your high horse of 'I'm-the-best-and-everybody-is-below-me!'"

"And you seem to be entitled to do that?" To Harry's confusion Riddle sounded amused.

"Well…" He scowled at the elder. "At the apparent lack of people who apply for the position, I might as well. Do you actually like that?"

The dark wizard looked at him questioningly. "Like what?"

"To surround yourself with people that always say 'yes' to everything you say."

"Well, it's definitely less irritating than having to bother with somebody like you."

"Thanks!" Harry hated that smug expression on Riddle's face.

A short knock on the door interrupted their conversation and both looked up. It was Taylor who opened the door and stepped into the room, but he halted right behind the threshold and looked at the dark wizard with an unreadable expression.

Harry's eyes were back on Riddle with a slight start, as the other stood up abruptly.

"No worries. I didn't harm the Golden Boy." Riddle's voice was cold and distant again, his face wearing a haughty mask and for a moment Harry felt slightly annoyed by Taylor intruding like that.

Remaining quiet, the younger watched Riddle leaving the room and Taylor seemed to narrow his eyes, as his gaze lingered on the retreating form for a few seconds.

_My conversation with… _

Harry halted his thoughts and frowned.

_Tom? I shouldn't think of him with that name. No matter how Dumbledore had always stuck to addressing Voldemort as Tom… it doesn't have the same meaning for me. Tom means making him more… human. And his appearance is confusing me enough already. _

"Harry?"

Blinking the younger looked up. He had completely forgotten about Taylor.

"Sorry. I was…" He shook his head. "Never mind, what is it?"

_I liked talking to him…_

/T/H/

Boredom had always been the worst for Harry. Especially, when there was so much he should actually be doing instead. Like trying to find more Horcruxes and finally figuring out by which means they could be destroyed.

_Riddle knows probably everything about that… obviously I can't ask him._

Rolling onto his stomach, Harry stared at the wall. He felt quite useless and superfluous. His friends were out, perhaps somewhere in the bustling streets of Diagon Alley or maybe even in Hogsmeade. They were around people - they could feel like they were actually doing _something_. Helping.

And he?

_I'm forced to stay put and not do anything, when it was really me who was entrusted with the task to find and destroy the Horcruxes. The prophecy says I'm the one supposed to bring Voldemort down. And all I can do is sit around here. _

"Eleven more days." He breathed out frustrated and let his head slump into his pillow.

After lying around for another fifteen minutes, Harry decided he could write back to Ginny and see how she was doing. Maybe he would even be able to get some information about what was going on at The Burrow, or maybe Ginny even had some news from her dad about the Ministry.

Yes, that seemed like a good idea.

With newfound vigor, he went to get some parchment and a quill out of his wardrobe.

_Hi, Ginny,_

Halting, Harry tapped the end of the feather tip against his nose and tried to find the right words. He would have to be careful not to let anything slip about Riddle to Ginny.

_Good to hear that everybody is okay! Hope the wedding is going to be great, looks like you're having loads of people at The Burrow. To tell the truth it's quite boring where I am at the moment. _

_Thanks for everything you wrote about Riddle. _

_Tell Luna I said 'hi', since she read the letter anyway. By the way, did your dad say anything about what is going on at the Ministry at the moment? We can't get the Daily Prophet, which will probably tell lies anyway, but maybe you know something new. _

_I'm waiting to turn seventeen. _

_Can't do magic yet without being tracked, so I have to wait. Ron and Hermione go by themselves to find out what's happening on the outside. I don't want to complain, but it's really dull to just sit around. You're not missing anything._

_/A bond…/_

"Huh?" Harry looked up and around, but there was nobody in the room besides himself. Frowning, he rubbed over his forehead. Where had that voice suddenly come from?

_A bond?_

_/Yes…/_

What was going on? He sat up, feeling slightly uneasy all of the sudden. Did he imagine that or had there really been a voice inside his head? And what was a bond?

Harry stared down at his letter, but the little parchment was still lying peacefully on his pillow, the last words showing exactly where he had left off. For a few minutes he just sat there and listened into the silence. The voice however did not return.

_Ginny… do you know what a bond is? _

Leaning back once more, Harry looked at his question. Wasn't that a bit odd of him? Then again… it couldn't hurt to ask, could it? He had never heard the word connected to the wizarding world before. For Muggles, it usually meant something that connected things. Or people… something supernatural. Like magic.

Harry chuckled.

_Yes, just like magic. Just like…_

"A binding charm?" He voiced the question without even meaning to, but the thought made him freeze and bit his lip, as he drifted off to more intricate questions.

_Can it be something like a binding charm? Is it the same? Maybe I could ask Hermione…_

A knock on the door startled Harry and ripped him out of his musings.

"Yes?"

The door opened and Hermione entered the room, followed by Ron.

"Hey, we're back."

For a moment Harry just sat there and watched them shuffling their feet. Was that his imagination or did they act a little funny? Well… they certainly did just stand around there at the door, starring at him with an uncertain posture, as if he was dangerous or something.

"Hey." Remembering the letter, Harry rolled up the little parchment and stuffed the piece and his quill into the drawer of his nightstand, feeling his friend's stares in his back. What was going on?

"What was that?" Hermione asked with a cautious voice and pointed at Harry's bed stand.

"Oh, nothing." He hadn't told them yet that he had written to Ginny.

"Harry…"

Rolling his eyes, Harry gave her a look. "It's nothing. I just wrote something, okay? So, did you find out anything new? Did something happen? Any important news?" He was already sick of his friends looking at him as if he was contagious.

Ron and Hermione both shook their heads.

"Nah, nothing new, mate." The other boy walked over to him.

"Yes, it's very… quiet at the moment." Hermione agreed and came over too.

_Am I going crazy here, or are they lying to me? _

"Harry, are you ok?"

Blinking in surprise, Harry looked at the young witch. "What do you mean?"

"Well… with being tied to Riddle and everything. Do you feel ok?"

_Ok, now that's just plain weird. _

"Of course I do. What kind of a stupid question is that?" He had not even meant to raise his voice at his friend, but could not hide the slight frown at the two.

"We just wanted to know. It's probably not easy-"

"Not easy? What's the problem here? Riddle and I hardly see each other; the charm can be adjusted, remember? It's not like he's on my back all the time or something. I can cope quite well."

When both Ron and Hermione just nodded, Harry decided to simply ignore their strange behavior and instead get some questions answered. Who knows what had gotten into them all of the sudden, he could only hope that it was just a temporary thing.

"Hermione, do you know what a bond is?"

Thinking that he had asked a completely harmless question and had braced himself already for an exact and very extensive quote from one of their school books, he was the more surprised and bewildered when Hermione, instead of answering him, just stared with wide eyes and then looked at Ron, who seemed just as startled.

Slightly annoyed, Harry watched his friends. What in the world was going on?

"What?!" He snapped. "Did I say something _wrong_?"

Hermione shook her head a little too vigorously, as she blurted out: "Oh, no! Not at all, Harry. Where… where did you hear about a… a bond?"

Harry shrugged. Seeing as they had reacted rather shocked about a – what he thought had been a totally innocent – question, he did not feel like it would be a good idea to tell them about the voice in his head. They might faint or whatever…

"Did You-Know-Who tell you about that?" Hermione sounded shrilly.

_What the…?_

"No, he didn't! Why should he, anyway?"

Unable to take Hermione's doubtful expression anymore, he looked at Ron, only to find his other friend with exactly the same face. Anger and annoyance started to bubble up in him.

_Now this is just ridiculous. _

"Look, what the _hell _is going on here?" Harry gritted his teeth, but it did not help to control his irritation. "You're looking at me like I'm some kind of a head case and it's getting really annoying, you know? So, I'd really appreciate it, if you'd tell me what this is all about!"

To his complete bewilderment, Hermione muttered something like: 'We've got to talk to Taylor' and they both rushed out of the room. The door slammed shut behind them rather loudly and Harry was left behind, looking nonplussed.

"Fine! Go and talk to Taylor then!"

Harry grabbed his blanket and pulled it over himself. It looked very much like a futile attempt to disappear into the deep mattress, as he also covered his head under the large layer.

Even if he did his best to push the feeling aside, it was not just anger at his friend's behavior that filled him. No, another rather strong emotion washed over him. Something that felt very much like hurt. It made him ache in all the wrong places.

What just happened? Did it have something to do with the voice in his head? Was it possible that they had known about it before it had even happened to him? Why did he have the feeling that everybody seemed to know more about him, than he did himself?

_Is there something wrong with me?_


	8. Chapter 8

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Hey, guys! I finally managed to update the next chapter! It's not long, but I hope you'll like it anyway! Thanks again for all your lovely comments! You made my day, as always! **natalie668: **I hope this update will make you happy, after you got back from your holiday, haha! **KCameh: **Welcome to my story then! . I'm glad you like it, thanx for your review! **Sage-serenity: **Uh, yeah. (laughes nervously) I noticed that cooking-mistake too! But now it's in the story and I don't wanna rewrite the whole scene, so I'll just keep it. Hope you can forgive me, haha!

Please enjoy and review, if you liked it or you have any suggestions!!

"Harry?!"

Unwilling to wake, Harry muttered something and tried to turn away from the direction of the voice.

The person that seemed so determined to wake him however, had a different idea, as he was grabbed by his shoulders and held in place, followed by another insisting: "Harry!"

"What is it?" Murmuring annoyed, the young wizard opened his eyes and saw the silhouette of somebody over him. He jumped in shock, but was unable to raise or say another word, as a hand clamped over his mouth.

"Mmpf!" Harry struggled.

"Be. Quite." Came the low hiss, and Harry realized who the person attacking him like this in the middle of the night was. And it did nothing to help **reduce** his anxiety.

"I'll take my hand away now. Do _not _make a noise. Okay?"

Just wanting the other to let go of him, Harry nodded and took a deep breath, when the hand was lifted from his mouth. "What are you doing?" He asked in a whisper.

"I need to talk to you." Riddle stated simply as he rose from the crouched position he was currently in.

"Now?" The younger sounded incredulous.

"Yes."

"Why? It's in the middle of the night. Why can't we-?"

"Because."

"Right. That's a good reason." Harry sat up in his bed and reached for his glasses, which were not on his bed stand anymore. Instead Riddle held them out for him. "Thanks."

As soon as he felt fully awake, the memory of his somewhat-fight with Ron and Hermione returned and he wished at once that he had never woken up. They had not come back to talk to him again, after they had left the room. And after awhile he had simply fallen asleep under his blanket.

"I'm not in the mood for talking." Harry mumbled with a definite sound of resignation to his voice.

Even though their room was pretty much pitch-black, the young wizard was sure that Riddle was looking at him. It was not so much that he had to see it, as it was, to his confusion, more like a feeling.

_Well, I'm obviously being silly here. There's no way that you can feel what people are doing._

"Harry, it's very important."

Harry's urge to protest in defiance dissolved at the sound of Tom's voice, soft and careful, almost as if he had known that Harry would have turned him down otherwise.

Sighing, the younger adjusted his eyes, which were now directed at the blanket that he was clutching in his hands. "What is it?"

He did not want to be so vulnerable around Riddle, but at the moment… he just couldn't help it. It was dark, he was tired, hurt and felt terribly alone. Even betrayed. Why had his friends acted so strange? Why did everybody always try to hide something from him?

Harry felt a familiar stinging in his eyes and rubbed over them resolutely.

"Why don't you say it already?!" Without meaning to, he had snapped at Riddle.

_Great, now I'm taking this out on him. _

"Say what?"

Harry was sure that the question would have normally made him even angrier with himself and everybody else, but Tom's voice was still soft and so very… understanding.

"That… that, I'm pathetic of course." Turning away slightly, he rubbed over his eyes once more, trying to wipe away the last trace of something that could possibly be a tear.

A warm hand on his cheek startled Harry and his eyes widened. Unable to move for several seconds, he felt the other brushing his thumb over his skin, probably in an attempt to reach the tears that he had suspected to be on Harry's face.

"You're not."

Suddenly Tom seemed very close. Harry could feel the other's breath on his face and experienced a tightening sensation in his throat; his mouth was dry, making it impossible to speak.

Tom's hand was still on his cheek, almost cradling it and Harry couldn't do anything but lean slightly into the touch. It felt warm and comforting and just like what he was craving so much at the moment. Something that would reassure him, somebody who would just…

_It's not right. It's not…_

Slowly, while suppressing the small voice in his head that was telling him he wanted it and was going to regret his decision, he pushed the other away, feeling the hand slide from his cheek and the immediate loss of warmth nearly had him reaching back out for Tom. Instead he buried his hands into the blanket and swallowed hard.

"You…" Forcing himself back to some self-control, he took a deep breath. "You said you wanted to talk to me? What about?"

"Us."

"Us?" Echoed Harry tentatively, as his head snapped up.

He saw Riddle nod. "Yes."

Pausing for a moment or so, the other seemed to be thinking of how to go on. "I've no means to force you into believing me, so the only option I have here is to tell you what I know and let you find out for yourself if what I say is true."

_Where's he…going with this? _

"You think you know the reason why they keep us locked up here together, don't you? Why everything they tell you fits so perfectly well and why this is obviously all about your safety, am I right?"

Harry hesitated, opened his mouth and closed it again.

_I still don't see what he's trying to get at._

"I… think I know, yes." He replied eventually, sounding a little unsure.

"From your point of view, I can imagine why things make perfect sense. To me however, they don't."

Once again Riddle halted and Harry could not quite explain why, but was fairly sure that the other was pressing his lips together and frowned. Was this all something he imagined or had it – just like always - something to do with all these connections and links they shared?

"You see, I know a great deal more about magic and all its extents then most people do. That's simply how I realized that something isn't quite right. Harry, whatever it is they told you that's binding us together here, is not a simple charm. It's something that cannot be created by any wizard."

"What… is it then?" Although uncertain of what to make of Riddle's words, Harry hadn't been able to hold back his question. Even if this was all a trick and Voldemort was most likely lying, there wasn't any harm done in being curious, was there?

"Do you know what a bond is?"

Staring at the elder for several seconds through the darkness, Harry could actually feel all the wheels turning in his head. This had got to be a bad joke. "This voice!" He blurted out short after, forgetting all about caution.

"Voice?" Riddle repeated after a moment, sounding as if he was weighing the word on his tongue.

"Yes! This afternoon! I was just… sitting here and it…" Halting, Harry's forehead furrowed. "Well, it… that's what I thought it had been anyway. It was just inside my… head. Just like that."

"What did you hear?"

The younger recognized the careful tone in Riddle's voice. "Just 'A bond' and… when I was wondering myself and really just repeated what I had heard in my head, I got a 'Yes' back. That… was all." He looked up and somewhat into the direction he thought the other's face was. "Do you know what that means?"

Silence filled the room for a few very long seconds before Harry got his answer.

"I think… I do."

Unconsciously he scooted over, closer to the edge of his bed, feeling all the questions he had been yearning to ask welling back up inside of him. Above all people, Harry wouldn't have spared a second to consider that Riddle might be able to give him some answers. For one, it was Voldemort he was talking about and secondly, he honestly would not have thought that Riddle would bother giving him any helpful information anyway.

"You do?" He asked hopefully.

"Well… yes. I suppose it's an ability of the bond. You see, I was pondering over the matter this afternoon and what you heard, must have been me. Thinking."

Stunned, Harry blinked. "I heard you thinking? Are you…?"

"I'm quite sure, for I heard exactly what you described and replied with a 'yes'. Mind you, I was obviously assuming that it had been my own thoughts, since I have had hardly anything else on my mind these past days."

Before the younger could raise another question, Riddle continued. "You're being lied to, Harry."

Naturally Harry had not expected something like this… at all and he found himself unable to say anything for several seconds. What was Riddle trying to…?

"What… do you mean by that?" He finally asked suspiciously.

"As you might have noticed by now, what's tying us together is not a mere binding charm, it's a bond. Maybe it doesn't seem like a big difference, if you hear it like that, but it makes all the difference in the world." The elder stopped, causing Harry to, once again, inch a little closer.

He was literally sitting on the edge of his bed. His hunger for answers surfacing again, Harry was kneading the blanket in tension. "What does it mean then? Why's this so… important?"

"A bond doesn't just trigger itself at random. There is a reason, a _purpose _why people are getting bound together. For instance, only wizards whose futures have already been linked through a prophecy can be affected by a bond. Nobody is able to say though, whether the simple existence of a prophecy _will _produce a bond as well. It's a highly remarkable and unusual piece of magic after all."

"Why do you think it happened then?" The younger urged on.

"I don't know."

"Oh." Blinking in complete surprise Harry heard Riddle chuckle.

"You _do _think I know everything, don't you?"

"Uh, well…" A slight frown tugged on Harry's forehead and he started to chew on his lower lip.

_Dumbledore **did **say that Riddle has been the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen. So... my hope that he has an answer to nearly everything wasn't too farfetched, now was it? And considering his ever present attitude of I'm-just-too-brilliant-for-my-own-good… _

"You always act like you do." Harry defended himself eventually.

"And here I was, thinking that Harry Potter thought his opponent beneath him."

"I never said that I thought you were _stupid_!" He retorted. "You're just ignorant about loads of stuff that you think isn't worth wasting your time on, simply because _you _believe it's not important."

"Maybe it would then benefit both of us if we did work together after all." Riddle wondered airily.

"Forget it."

The elder chuckled again. "Evaluating our current circumstances, I'm afraid we won't have much of a choice."

"And why is that?!" Harry seemed unwilling to have to return to proper reasoning.

Shrugging unimpressed, Riddle tugged at the bond. "Maybe that's why?"

"Right…" The younger pursed his lips. "I-"

"You forgot, I know."

"Why do you have to be such an ass?" Harry gritted through clenched teeth. He tried to glare at the other through the darkness, which, of course, did not work too well. He couldn't really be angry, nevertheless, he was still annoyed. How could he not be? Hermione was a pain at times; Riddle on the other hand….could be a constant nightmare if he wanted to.

Apparently ignoring Harry's insult, the elder changed the subject by saying: "If we could return to a more civilized conversation then?" Harry glowered, but was ignored once more. "I cannot tell you what the reason for the bond is. It's still too early to tell, but since I'm quite convinced that neither of us is too keen on being stuck to each other until the end of our days, the function of our bond will be exactly what we will have to find out."

Nodding slowly, the younger thought back to the beginning of their conversation. This was quite a piece of information and all at once no less. The question was only if he could believe a word of what Riddle had told him. He did not know anything about binding charms or bonds or whatever it was that could connect people to each other. So he either had to take the other's word for it or…

"You said I'm being lied to. You were talking about Taylor?"

"Yes, I was. Maybe not just him though…"

"Ron and Hermione would _never _lie to me!" Harry flared up at Riddle immediately.

"Not intentionally, I am sure." Seemingly unimpressed by Harry's outburst, the elder went on, still remaining calm. "But what about your safety? A bond is nothing to take lightly. It's one of the most complex magical phenomena one can imagine and I doubt that even your so very bright Mudblood friend-"

"Don't call her-"

"Oh, come off it, Potter! What do you suppose I do? Be _nice_?"

A little taken aback, Harry fell silent.

"Maybe you're forgetting who I am? I'm not going to reverse into some sort of Mudblood lover or Muggle friend. My way of seeing things hasn't changed, if you were wondering." Riddle got to his feet and the same moment the moon broke through the clouds outside, outlining his frame.

"In whatever way you might have interpreted my actions, I haven't suddenly turned into a saint. The only reason I'm telling you all this is because you wouldn't be of any use to me if you'd stay utterly oblivious about everything that's happening around you. I can imagine what your great protectors are planning, while they keep you neatly locked up, but the fact that we're inseparable won't change some time soon, so we better figure something out ourselves."

Harry heard the other take a deep breath and found himself quite unable to respond. If he had expected something, this definitely wasn't it. Riddle had been surprisingly honest to him, but…

_Why is he doing this? That's not Voldemort, who tries to trick and manipulate the people he needs. He's honest. Although I can't say that his little speech sounded too charming, but I don't need some nice words. I want somebody to tell me the truth, for once. And he was honest to me… _

Despite the fact that he actually _did_ feel a little intimidated by Riddle in their current situation, Harry got to his feet and faced the elder. He was a few inches smaller than his opposite.

"So, you think you're just telling me this flat out and I'll throw my arms around you and agree?"

To Harry's slight shock the elder started to lean in - a bit too much for his taste no less - and he could feel Riddle's breath ghosting over his face again. The moonlight illuminated the dark wizard's face and let Harry catch a glimpse of the inciting smirk playing on Riddle's lips. "Maybe?"

Fighting back the blush that crept up his cheeks, the younger retorted. "Think again then."

Riddle chuckled. "Wouldn't have thought I'd say this, but sometimes I do like you, Potter." Lifting his hand to Harry's cheek, he brushed it fleetingly, causing the younger to tense. "Unfortunately however, you've gotten your priorities all wrong."

His cheeks now definitely burning, Harry swallowed. "That point of view is… arguable."

Smirking again, Riddle held something up in his other hand. "Certainly," and pressed, what felt like a book to Harry's chest. "Take this. There's a small roll of parchment at the page about bonds, both things should be of interest to you. And it would be very nice of you to return the parchment to Taylor. Unnoticed, if you can manage."

Confused for a moment the younger just looked back at Riddle, before he grabbed the book, which was quite voluminous. "You _stole _something out of Taylor's room?"

Riddle had already turned away halfway and gave Harry now a short glance over his shoulder. "I much prefer the term 'borrow', since I'm putting very much trust in you to return it."

"Right." Harry couldn't conceal his snort.

"I'm going to bed. Hopefully you'll have studied both things I gave you thoroughly by the time we talk next, so that our conversation will be less of a hassle for me."

"Keep on insulting me, why don't you?" Muttering to himself in annoyance, the younger placed the book onto his bed stand. Fortunately he was already in his pajamas and could just slip back under his covers to go back to sleep. But the possibility that he really would seemed rather slim to him. How could Riddle even think of going to bed in a situation like this? Harry could not have been more awake.

Lying in his bed, the young wizard stared at the ceiling, suddenly more aware of the other's presence than ever. Even if it was just the soft, rhythmic sound of breathing that wouldn't let Harry forget he was not alone in the room, Riddle seemed ever present.

The directions in which his thoughts started to head made him shift uncomfortably. For some reason he always had difficulties falling asleep with other people in the room. In his first year at Hogwarts he had had the same difficulties. Not that he didn't like the company, it was just… he would start to listen to the others breathing, wondering if they were asleep already and all sorts of things.

It seemed like he enjoyed not being alone anymore, but on the other hand couldn't quite handle it.

He had been alone for so long.

_/I haven't suddenly turned into a saint. /_

_No, you certainly haven't and now you're giving me the worst headache ever. How am I supposed to sort all this stuff out by myself? I know… I'm not **alone**, but obviously Ron and Hermione didn't seem to bother telling me what is really going on here. Why does everybody always have to think that they need to take care of me? I'm not some porcelain doll that needs to be wrapped in cotton wool. _

Feeling anger bubble up inside of him, Harry turned around onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow. He hated it, when people acted like he was a stupid child or some unpredictable lunatic. By now, he had thought his friends knew better.

_Obviously they don't!_

Harry turned his head to the side and looked at the book on his bedside table. He was really curious now, especially about the parchment from Taylor. Who would it be from? And what about?

_Well, wondering about it now won't help me much._

"Tom?"

For a moment he thought he would not get an answer - that the other might be asleep already or simply choose to ignore him.

"Hm?"

"Night," involuntarily, Harry noticed his face growing warm again.

There was another pause and Harry could not help but grin at the fact that he was literally able to picture Riddle lying in his bed, frowning.

"Good night, Harry."

Ugh... btw. in case anyone can help me, I tried to insert this horizontal ruler line again. (like I always did x.x) but it didn't work, whenever I pressed Save Changes, it vanished again. Can anybody help me with that? Thanx!


	9. Chapter 9

**Inside Out**

Pairing: Tom/Harry

Warnings: This story contains SLASH, meaning male/male love. Don't read, if you're offended by that.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, settings etc. They all belong to J.K. Rowling. Except for the characters & things that I invent myself. And I'm not trying to make any money with this story either.

Author's note: Well, guys... what can I say? x___X I'm an awfully lazy little *rambles on*... But yeah, that sounds about right. So sorry, for keeping you waiting such a long time! For that reason this chapter is extra long! XD And I hope I can make up to you with posting the next chapter in about a week or two, at the most! I promise.^^ Thank you all for the lovely comments you left me, while waiting for this story to continue. I love you all! ^__^

Please enjoy!

* * *

Upon waking the next day, Harry noticed that he was completely tangles in his blanket, and had serious trouble trying to detach himself piece by piece from the clinging fabric. He was eventually successful in freeing himself and reached for his glasses, all the while mumbling under his breath.

The first thing his eyes fell on was the large book on his bed stand and the small part of a parchment sticking out of the front cover. His stomach gave an agitated jolt, as last night's memory flooded back into his mind. Harry slowly picked up the tome.

It did not surprise him that Riddle's bed was deserted and, with a quick glance, Harry checked to make sure that the door was tightly closed. The thought that he didn't want his friends to burst in on him while reading Taylor's note- which most definitely should not be found in his possession- did not concern him at all.

If they kept secrets from him, why shouldn't he do the same for them?

Besides…

A certain realization had suddenly dawned on him. Hadn't Hermione asked him whether Voldemort had approached him about the matter of bonds or not? So they _did _know something about it, but had simply chosen not to tell him.

_Oh well, or they just think that they know what's best for me… as _usual_._

Very resolutely now, Harry unrolled the parchment and started to scan the small piece – not without another cautious glance towards the door that was. The note had neither a name to who it was addressed nor the name of a possible sender. Even the small bit of writing it contained appeared strangely obscured, and by the look of it, probably on purpose.

_They will have to fulfill its bidding._

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Harry had found the kitchen deserted when he entered the room later that morning, seeing only a note on the table that told him Ron and Hermione had gone out again. He hardly even looked at it before he threw it into the trash and made himself something to eat. It was very quiet in the house and Harry could, for the first time really understand how bored Sirius must have felt when he had still been locked up here. For a whole year no less!

_No wonder he was so desperate to get out. I feel sort of trapped in here too…_

Chewing on a toast, he looked round the kitchen and remembered how cramped the place had been with the Order of the Phoenix residing in it. With a constant coming and going of people - and Mrs. Weasley - here, Grimmauld Place had never been boring. She had made sure that everybody had work to do. Not the greatest way to spend your leisure time, true, but at least cleaning filled up the extra time.

Harry took his toast and left the room, wondering where Taylor was. The little parchment in the pocket of his trousers rustled, and he suddenly felt nervous. Would he be able to sneak into the other's room to put the parchment back? Should he even attempt to return it?

Maybe it would be easier if he was going to enter Taylor's room under the pretense of asking him something, which should not be too big of a problem, for he had numerous questions that needed answering

"Taylor?" Knocking softly on the door, Harry called out for the other. But after several minutes he had not gotten an answer, and Harry tried again. His second attempt turned out to be just as successful as the first, and the thought of just sneaking into the room and returning the parchment came back to his mind.

_I could try… and if he comes in, I'll just…have to make something up._

With that decided, Harry pushed the door open and entered.

The room was almost empty, unused looking, and if it had not been for the slightly rumpled bed and the dust cleaned off on it, he would have thought that nobody was living here. Furnished very much like the other bedrooms, it contained a bed and a wardrobe. A fireplace was set into the stony wall at the left hand side of the room.

Looking back over his shoulder, Harry took a few more steps and scanned the room.

Where could he place the parchment without making it seem too obvious? He should have asked Riddle where exactly he had gotten it from, when his eyes halted at the bed stand.

Well, it certainly would be the place where he would keep a letter.

Deciding to act on his only guess, Harry strode over to the bed and opened the first drawer of the little bedside table.

A small, old looking photograph slid into sight.

It was showing two young men that were laughing and smiling up at him. One of them looked a lot like Taylor, perhaps in his early twenties. The other, who had his arm slung around Taylor's shoulder, looked quite similar to him, though the man's eyes were brown and not a bluish-gray like Taylor's.

They could be brothers, thought Harry, as he looked at the picture.

If they were indeed related to each other, Taylor's brother had a slightly more pronounced air of handsomeness about him with the somewhat whiskey like color of his eyes and his high cheekbones. He also had shorter hair and was probably the younger one of the two.

Upon seeing this picture of Taylor and obviously somebody close to him, Harry remembered that he still did not know much from the other. What about his family? Were or had they all been Death Eaters? So they were purebloods? Taylor must have attended Hogwarts, or maybe Durmstrang? Beauxbatons? How did he end up in the Order of the Phoenix?

A loud crash startled Harry out of his musings and he whirled around.

It must have come from downstairs. In his hurry to leave the room, to see what had happened, he had almost forgotten the reason for coming here and stumbled back again, carefully placing the parchment next to the photograph and pushed the drawer shut.

_What happened?_

Halfway down the stairs, Harry saw Taylor standing in the hallway. A splintered vase was lying on the floor beside him - its pieces seemed to be covering the whole floor around him.

Just a second before he would have called out to the elder, to ask what had happened, he heard Taylor speak to somebody, his voice low and threatening. Harry halted instantly and strained to listen.

"If you ever-"

"What?!" Snapped another voice, which sounded very scathing and… familiar. "Tell him the truth, because you're constantly failing to do so?"

Now carefully not to draw any attention to himself, Harry took a few more steps down and Riddle came into view, his arms crossed and a vicious glare directed toward Taylor, his eyes narrowed. The fact that he was cornered by the other did not seem to concern the dark wizard too much, which the haughty expression on his face could tell only too well.

"Oh, or let me rephrase that: because you've deliberately decided not to do so."

The next thing he knew, Taylor had grabbed Riddle's shoulder in a not too soft looking grip and seized him up against the wall. "You _monster_, as if you're doing this for his sake. The only thing you're after is your own advantage! Well, I'll make very sure that you won't be able to use him in that sick scheme of yours!"

Feeling the sudden urge to step in, Harry made sure his next steps were not to be overheard and saw he did not fail, as both Taylor and Riddle looked up to him.

"What's… going on?" He asked, his eyes darting forth and back between the two.

The grip in which Taylor held the dark wizard did not loosen -on the contrary his fingers seemed to nearly pierce into Riddle's shoulder. Harry did not think the other to be fragile, but that would have hurt everyone.

Riddle didn't even make a face.

He was either really good in suppressing pain or simply quite successful in covering it up. Harry was convinced it was the latter. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he repeated his question.

"Taylor, what's going on here?"

He saw**,** with some relief**,** that the elder let go of Riddle reluctantly.

"We had a small disagreement, but I believe we were able to settle things." Taylor gave the other a short glare, but the dark wizard did not argue, which struck Harry as slightly odd.

_Who do you think I am, Taylor? Lying to me like that…_

Trying to keep his gaze from being accusing he kept looking at the elder. "I see."

"In fact, I believe it will be better, if you two…"

Harry's eyes were on the floor, as he made his way through or rather round the shards of the vase, which proved to be more difficult than he would have thought. Taylor obviously did not seem to care much about repairing the broken vessel at the moment.

"…won't share a room from now on."

Half expecting the other would say something like that; Harry had started to nod, when he felt a sharp tug at his wrist and nearly lost his balance, as he stumbled forward. Stepping on a bunch ofshards in the process, he could feel his feet slipping and let out a shocked gasp, already picturing himself to land on the floor just a second later.

The sudden appearance of arms around him prevented his fall and he instinctively reached out, grabbing the first thing he could and bumped into the person that had just saved him from a straight fall into the pile of sharp fragments on the ground.

Only slowly was Harry able to regain balance and shaking off the dizziness, he raised his head.

_Oh, no…_

Riddle looked at least as surprised as he did, but managed a faint smile at him that caused Harry's heart to skip a beat, an experience he couldn't quite explain.

Suddenly very aware of how close they were, his cheeks warmed and he lowered his eyes.

"Er… thanks." Harry wanted to step back, feeling a sudden need for a _lot_ of distance between them.

However Riddle did not seem too willing to let go of him just yet, as he turned his head and addressed Taylor, who must have watched the whole scene. Harry's embarrassment increased tenfold at the realization.

"I dare say it should be rather difficult to separate us, wouldn't you agree?"

_What's he talking about?_

His almost-fall had caused Harry to lose complete track of the conversation. But by the way Taylor looked at them, he was quite sure that their talk must have taken quite the unpleasant turn somewhere in-between the lines.

Harry tried to detangle himself from Riddle and did his best to fight back his blush.

Evidently Riddle must have seen Taylor's glare as well and he smirked. "You know only too well that I didn't do anything." His vicious sneer stood in great contrast to the satisfied expression on his face. "I didn't_ have_ to."

The dark wizard's sniping undertone made the younger flinch like so many times before. It never ceased to shock him that somebody could express so much cruelty, so much… _malice_ with nothing but words.

_Why are you like that, Tom? Did they really make you…?_

Harry noticed that Riddle looked at him for a split-second, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly.

_/You should stop worrying about things that are none of your business./_

The smooth, but rebuffing voice of the dark wizard flooded his mind and made him blanch. Trying to shake off his shock, Harry remembered what he had read in the book. About how a bond's abilities and powers develop in stages, usually equivalent to the number of days it has been active, but also widely depending on the both wizard's willingness to cooperate.

"What stage…?" Forgetting about Taylor for a moment, Harry couldn't refrain from asking.

Riddle however seemed very aware of the other wizard and kept his eyes on him, while replying to Harry with a slight smirk. "Three."

"That's enough! Harry, we need to talk!"

He had really forgotten about Taylor, when the other spoke up and caused the younger to jump a little. Turning around to him, Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at him for a long moment, without responding. Eventually he shrugged and said: "Okay."

_I'm really curious now…_

--------------------------------------

Wordlessly Harry followed the elder up the stairs and into his room, from which he had just come. It was apparent from Taylor's body language that he was pretty angry.

_Big deal, _thought Harry scathingly. He's _not half as angry as I am._

That the bond between Riddle and him had reached stage three now seemed a lot more important to him right now. For it meant they would be able to communicate simply be thinking. The book had said that it was different from Legilimency, because it does not depend on the mental or magical ability of a wizard to block out the other.

It was all mutual. Nothing would work without the approval of the other.

Entering Taylor's room once more, Harry walked over to the window. He did not feel like facing the elder directly, it would only upset him even more. But the slowly burning anger inside of him made him realize that it would be very hard not to explode at Taylor.

_I'm bound to _Voldemort_, for god's sake, but nobody bothered telling me what this 'binding charm' really was. Why should they anyway? Seeing that a bond is hardly different than my usual situation._

Harry gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

"Whatever you may think now, Harry, don't blame Ron and Hermione for it. They would never have kept things from you, if it wouldn't have been for me imploring them not to talk to you. We couldn't tell you about the bond. How could we have? We had never dreamed that it would actually happen."

"Oh, really? And why is that?" Still facing the window, the youth's eyes were now fixed on an indefinite point out on the street. If he had been looking at Taylor now, he was sure he would have snapped at the other, instead of just giving him a sarcastic remark.

_Why on _Earth_ are they doing this _again_and _again_!? 'Oh, don't tell Harry, he won't be able to cope' or 'Don't tell Harry, he's too _stupid_to get it anyway.' They must be extremely disappointed that they're not 'The Chosen One', they'd have done away with Voldemort in no time, I'm sure._

"Harry…" Taylor sighed loudly behind him. "Why do you think I was at your house the day You-Know-Who showed up? It wasn't mere coincidence. I came to get you. I had reached your house the night before and waited for a moment when you would be alone. We… Dumbledore had been worried all this time about whether or not a bond would activate itself between you and the Dark Lord the moment you came of age. Everybody else thought the idea utterly preposterous, but just to be sure - we decided to take you to a place where we could have an eye on you. "

Harry did not respond, but wasn't paying attention to anything on the street anymore. Instead he listened to Taylor intently. He had been dying to hear the reasons why Taylor had suddenly showed up. How they knew Voldemort would turn up at Privet Drive. And Dumbledore… he had known things all along.

Why hadn't Dumbledore told him while he had still been alive?

Taylor resumed. "Of course, we had no… we still have no idea, how You-Know-Who was able to break through the enchantment at your aunt and uncle's house. But we think that it has something to do with the bond." Pausing for a few seconds or so, the elder seemed to think his words over very carefully, before picking back up where he had stopped.

"We knew Dumbledore had never been wrong, when it came to predictions about the Dark Lord and you, but this time… A bond, Harry, happens, if at all, maybe once every two or three hundred years. How could we possibly believe that such a powerful kind of magic would occur? It was just so unlikely. Well, even if we didn't know what to think of Dumbledore's worries, we thought it best to take you away from your Aunt and Uncle sooner rather than later. Obviously we had no idea at that time about the thirteen-day-rule and just how powerful a bond can be."

Remaining silent once again, Harry kept his back to the elder. His mind was reeling with all the new information. They had tried to prevent the bond by… taking him away? And it had not worked, because Voldemort was there, because the bond had reacted the moment they had come into physical contact.

_Because it has been thirteen days before my birthday. Thirteen days before I came of age._

Had there really been a way to escape the bond?

"I was too late. Our worst fear was confirmed and you were bound to him. Harry, how could we have told you? We didn't know any solution ourselves, so we started searching for ways a bond could be undone. I _had_ to lie to you."

"Oh, you did, did you?!" Grasping the window sill hard, Harry pressed his lips together.

Taylor sighed and the younger could hardly refrain from turning around and yelling at him.

_So sorry I'm being difficult…_

"No, I didn't have to, but we decided not to tell you the truth for the time being. What good would it have done? We didn't know what to do and it wouldn't have helped anybody to upset you."

That did it.

Whirling around Harry stared at his opposite. "Oh, I'm _sorry_ for causing you trouble! Maybe you should've kept on _lying _to me, wouldn't you agree?! Would've made the whole situation easier! Well, too_ bad_ that Tom told me what's going on! Tough luck that there's somebody intelligent bound to me, otherwise _stupid _Harry wouldn't have figured things out! Isn't that what you're thinking?!"

Fury, pure hatred for just about everyone was pulsing through him so powerfully that he was trembling with the force of it. Oh, he did hate them! Right at this moment he felt like he had never liked any of them ever before.

_Liars. They. Are. _All._ Liars. _Liars!

Harry saw Taylor opening his mouth and cut right across him. "Be quiet! I don't want to hear your pathetic apologies! You're all the same! Lying to me over and over again, for my _safety_! You know, I can't be bothered to listen to any of you anymore! I can take care of myself! When are you going to get this?! I don't need fucking bodyguards!"

_They could have told me! They could have told me _beforehand_! I could have run away from the Dursleys. I could have done _something_! Something… just something to prevent the bond._

"Harry, please-"

"SHUT UP! I'm so sick of you! All of you! I'm tired of listening to more lies. Why don't you go and figure out how to defeat Voldemort? I'm quite surprised that you haven't done him in yet, seeing as you know so very well what to do and what's going on! Oh, but it has always been stupid Harry who has fought quite successfully, I wonder how he's done that!?"

Surprised Harry took a step back as the other strode over to him and grabbed his arm in a tight hold. "Get. A. _Grip_. Harry. I'm not Dumbledore, I'm not listening to you raging on and on about how unfair the world is! The world is fucking unfair, deal with it!"

"You-"

"No, now you better listen to me." Taylor was quite furious himself. "I have neither the patience nor the will to let you go on like this. It's pointless and childish. I know it _wasn't _right to keep all this from you, but we didn't have a _choice. _It had to be done. We're still here to help you - Ron and Hermione are worried sick about you. And all you do is dwell in self-pity and complain about how everybody is unfair to you. Big deal."

Quite stunned, Harry looked at the other unable to respond anything for several seconds. Dumbledore would have never talked to him like that. He would have sat behind his desk in the headmaster's office and had admitted to his mistakes. He would have said that he, Harry, was right and that they should not have kept things from him. He would have apologized to him.

_Taylor's got some nerve._

The anger that had subsided for a moment at the elder's unexpected outburst, came flaring back up inside of him, but this time Harry was determined to control it.

"Now you can either go in your room sulking or continue listening to me finishing my earlier explanations. In case you care to or maybe you'd rather stay in the dark, so you can go on whining that nobody's telling you anything."

Finally able to free his arm, Harry ripped it out of Taylor's grip and turned his back to the other.

"You know what?" He spat. "I might actually be better off going. I don't need to listen to anymore of this. I feel like I've had quite enough for awhile. So thanks, but no thanks."

Striding over to the door, Harry felt his nails dig into his palms, so tight had he clenched his wrists. Oh, he _would _get a grip. He wasn't going to be _childish _anymore, even though the only thing he really wanted to do at this moment was to smash something to the ground.

"Harry…" Taylor called out after him, but halted before he said: "You can't trust him."

Narrowing his eyes at those words, Harry stopped at the door and laid his hand on the cold wooden frame. Unconsciously did his fingers claw at the wooden surface.

_What do you know? You don't know _anything_. The only thing you care about is…_

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"Harry, you know I didn't-"

But the younger did not wait for Taylor to finish what he was saying and interrupted him. "I know I can't trust him, but… I can't trust you either."

Harry let go of the doorframe and left.

----------------------------------------------------------

Ron and Hermione did not come back until late that night and Harry had told Taylor they should not come looking for him. He needed time to think things over, time to sort out where he was standing and how they were going to continue this.

So, the Order was looking for means to free Harry from the bond?

_Hah, fucking liar! There are no means and he knows it, he just didn't bother telling me. Or is Tom lying to me? He's Voldemort after all… What if he's trying to lure me into some kind of trap and use me? Who's actually telling me the truth?_

Harry let his head drop down onto the table and closed his head. The cool surface seemed to calm his mind. All his thoughts and worries were so mixed up by now – he had no idea what to think of the whole mess he had gotten himself into, let alone getting back out.

What were they going to do, if the Order would not find a way out of this? Did it even make sense to hope for a simple solution? Or was it true that a bond would only cease to exist when the two wizards affected were able to get to the bottom of things and find the reason that they had been bound together? In order to do whatever they were supposed to do…

If this was true, then… what was it that the bond wanted them to do?

How was this ever going to work out? Everything he had read had only made things more complicated. All the powers and abilities of the bond would just be accessible if the two wizards worked together. They would have to agree on things.

_This is ludicrous! Wherever these great powers have come from, they've probably no idea just how different Tom and I are. He's everything I despise. He's selfish, cruel, cold-hearted and has no regard for other people. How am I supposed to be on the same page with somebody like that? Since I went to Hogwarts everything I've ever been told was how evil Lord Voldemort is and… then the prophecy._

_We basically are supposed to kill each other off. And now I should suddenly work together with him. This is insane. It's never going to work. Never._

Sighing loudly, Harry lifted his head of the table and rested his chin on his hands. The longer he sat around thinking of just exactly how hopeless his situation was, the worse his headache got. He could sit here for another two days and wouldn't have any more answers to his questions.

_What kind of a choice do I have? I have to go and talk him._

It was already dark outside when Harry got to his feet and rubbed his eyes. He had not bothered putting a light on in the kitchen. Harry knew somehow that Tom would be in the library room, but did not feel up to facing him. No matter how many questions were on his mind, and no matter how often he was telling himself that the elder would be able to answer them.

The knowledge that it was a bond and not a simple binding charm that connected him to Voldemort, the fight with Taylor, the realization that his friends were lying to him the whole time… he felt terribly confused with it all. His head was hurting and he felt exhausted.

If anything, he wished to be left alone for a very long time, had it not been for the rather strong emotion of loneliness and hopelessness that swept through him that seemed to tell him otherwise.

Who was he to trust in, if not his friends? He would have to talk to them tomorrow - he wanted to hear the truth from them. No, he _needed _to hear the truth from them.

The atmosphere of the house seemed even more oppressive at night, as it was laying there swallowed up by darkness and deafening silence.

Harry tried to avoid any creaking steps as he made his way up to the third landing.

Pushing the door to the library room open shortly after, he found his assumption that Tom would be here confirmed and entered the room. As he saw the other standing there at the window, his slim, tall form so completely wrapped in darkness, Harry thought he felt a terrible loneliness radiating of him.

_He has his followers, but he's always alone. He always was alone. How can somebody bear that?_

"Tom?" Carefully he approached the other, who had done nothing yet to acknowledge his presence.

"I was wondering…" Tom turned around to him, his hands buried in the pockets of his trousers. Harry realized that the elder did not wear the same clothes he had been when they had come to Grimmauld Place.

It looked like Riddle had been honest by saying that he did not mind the Muggle clothes, or maybe he had just changed into them, for the simple reason that he hadn't had a choice and could not wear the same things forever.

_Now he looks almost like his Muggle father._

Black and white seemed to suit Tom well, even if he had rather light skin. He did not look pale with it. On the contrary, although the clothes were so casual: black trousers – Harry could not tell what fabric – and a white shirt that he had folded up to his elbows - it still gave him an elegant appearance.

_He looks like a rich guy. I wish I'd look half as well-dressed in something so simple._

Harry didn't see Tom's lips quirking slightly.

_/Really?/_

Startled out of his thoughts, the younger looked up and felt blood rising to his cheeks.

_Oh…_

The other chuckled. "I was wondering when you'd come." He finished his earlier sentence.

"Stop reading my mind." Harry huffed, still feeling embarrassed that Tom had probably heard everything he had just thought. He would have to get used to the fact that he would not have his mind to himself, unless he kept his guard up around the dark wizard… which he really should have done all this time.

"It's rather inviting, if you leave it so open for me to access."

"Well, you could have the decency and not take advantage of it too much." Pursing his lips, the younger folded his arms and sighed. "Anyway…"

"You want to talk about the bond." Tom said, guessing his reason for coming to see him correctly.

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes."

With bewilderment and surprise at the same time, he watched as the elder turned away from him and back towards the window, folding his arms just like Harry had done. "Go on then."

Staring at Tom's back for a minute or two, the younger spelled out the first thing that came to his mind, which had expectedly also been the very thing that had been nagging at him in the back of his head for the entire day.

"Why didn't you resist?!" His question was both accusing and uncomprehending.

_He could've resisted the bond! We wouldn't have to be here… it could've been so simple! Why didn't he just… why hasn't he refused to give into it? It doesn't make sense - the book said that only the most powerful wizards are able to resist a bond's influence. He's Voldemort. He's probably the most powerful wizard there is, now that Dumbledore is dead. If he couldn't have fought it, who could have?_

Harry saw the other tense, but Tom did not answer.

"Tom!" Unfazed he repeated his question. "Why didn't you resist the bond?!"

Once again, the elder kept quiet for a long time and Harry was on the verge of repeating his question a third time, when Tom finally answered. "That's none of your business."

The rejection and that icy barrier between them were practically tangible.

Disbelief was written all over Harry's face, as he blinked, obviously not having expected such a rebuff at all. But this emotion was quickly replaced by frustration. "Oh, it isn't?!" He snapped at the other in annoyance.

"Quite right, it isn't." Retorted Riddle coldly.

"Pardon me for contradicting you, but I think it bloody well _is_. In case you haven't noticed yet, if you had simply refused to enter into the bond, we wouldn't be in this fucked up situation!"

Riddle's continuous silence really started to drive him mad and his nerves had been on a rather thin thread all day already. How dare the bastard to just stand there and not talk to him- this was worse than somebody who would actually have the courtesy to argue back properly.

"What do you know, Potter?"

"Enough to get that we wouldn't have to be here, if it weren't for _you_!" Harry clenched his wrists.

_Oh, I hate him! But you're not getting me this time, Riddle._

"Maybe I'm missing something here, but from my point of view I can't see why you could possibly want to be bound to me. I always had the impression that your greatest ambition was to see me dead, but correct me if your priorities have changed recently." Bit the younger out disdainfully and turned away as well.

Riddle kept silent once again. Since the beginning of their argument he had not moved from his place at the window. His back to Harry, the younger could not tell what was going on inside the elder.

"Right, don't talk to me then. We don't have to work this out, but I wonder who'll have a _bigger _problem with it. I'm quite content here with my friends. You're bound to me, so you won't be able to continue your plan of taking over the wizarding world and your Death Eaters are nothing without you. The longer I look at it, the less I feel bothered. Have a good night, _Tom_!"

Stomping off to the door, Harry felt the great urge do throttle somebody. He ripped it open and was halfway out of the room, when he heard the other.

"Wait."

Harry stopped dead in his tracks, but did not turn around.

"What?!"

Oh, it had never felt better to have somebody at his mercy, that's for sure. The satisfaction that flooded his body made it extremely hard to suppress the smug smirk, his lips twitched slightly.

Feeling Riddle trying to see what he was thinking, Harry shut him out successfully.

_How stupid do you think I am, Riddle? _He thought to himself. _I'm quite curious to hear what your reason was for getting us into this nightmare of a situation._

"I wasn't… able to resist." Came the dark wizard's barely audible answer, finally. His voice shook ever so slightly and Harry would have thought it was perhaps because of the topic, if it weren't for the hardly noticeable surges of rage that he could feel through their connection.

"Problems keeping your temper in check, have we?" It had simply been impossible for Harry to bite his tongue and quite honestly he felt rather reckless at the moment too.

Of course, it was not very clever to advance on things like this or even wise to edge Riddle on, seeing that he was beyond furious already anyway. But how often had he endured Voldemort laughing cruelly and derisively right into his face, when he had been lying at his feet in the dirt and mere seconds away from death?

The other had not given in a single time and so this time, he wouldn't either.

Surely, Harry wasn't a person to seek revenge in such humiliating ways, but he would have been a coward to let Voldemort have the upper hand, when he clearly wasn't in the position for that.

_Oh, no Tom, not this time. You better give me something good here._

The short but powerful flash of fury had been unmistakable and Harry was surprised that the other was not at his throat by now, though grateful nonetheless.

"Ever wondered how it is to be dragged through the dirt, while you can't fight back?" Turning around to the dark wizard, the younger was quite prepared to see the other staring at him in hatred and was accordingly unimpressed. "Well, that's exactly how it feels. Now go ahead and try killing me. I can imagine you're just _dying _to do that and I'm rather sure that you will."

"Never thought you had it in you, _Potter_." Gritted the elder.

Harry shrugged. "Oh, you know… it's not _too_ difficult being an asshole." Pushing the faint wave of fear away, he stepped right up to Riddle and looked him straight in the face, a cold smile on his lips. "_You_ of all people should know _best_, shouldn't you?"

The loss of control on Tom's side was not much of a shock to Harry, but it still took him a second to fight off a new wave of dread, as the other had grabbed his arm – his fingers now digging painfully into the youth's skin.

"I swear I-"

"What?! You swear what? That you'll kill me? Oh please, I've got a whole bag full of death threats from you. How come I'm still alive?" Narrowing his eyes, he met the elder's glare.

This time Tom did not retort, his lips pressing together into a thin line instead.

They were both trembling by the agonizing pain that pulsed through every fiber of their bodies, but neither seemed willing to give in or beg down.

"Tell me Tom!" Harry leant in, until their noses were almost touching and whispered dangerously. "Tell me why you didn't fight the bond. You can't possibly be enjoying this and I can _assure_ you already that you'll have a hell of a time with me, if you don't step down from that high horse of yours. I'm not going to be your little plaything in this."

It started to get blinding, his surroundings became blurry and he found it more difficult to breathe by the second. If Riddle was not going to let go of him any time soon, they would both collapse when the last bit of strength would give out on their aching bodies.

Fortunately the dark wizard seemed to be aware of this fact as well or his endurance must have reached its limit too, for he released his hold on Harry's arm and they both stumbled back a few steps, panting heavily.

For several minutes, the only thing that interrupted the otherwise prevailing silence in the room was the sound of their straining breaths.

"Turns out I underestimated you, Potter." Said Riddle quietly and was so the first to speak again.

"Turns out you did, Riddle." Replied Harry.

Silence filled the room once more, this time interrupted by the younger.

"What did you mean by saying you weren't able to resist the bond?" Determined not to let any reaction of the other slip his attention, he watched him very closely.

Riddle was not meeting his eyes anymore. Even more, he turned his back on Harry like he had done before, with the slight difference this time that the younger saw him wrapping his arms around himself, as he tilted his head back and seemed to be looking at the ceiling.

"I couldn't do anything, because I didn't have the power to."

"But-"

"It's gone."

For a moment Harry stared at the elder's back, before he echoed questioningly. "Gone?"

_What does he mean 'gone'? His power? Surely he can't be talking about his magic. Voldemort not able to do magic anymore? How would that be possible? That's just-_

Tom turned back around to Harry and faced him, an unreadable expression on his face, as he said: "My magic is gone, Harry."


End file.
